Reaching Normality
by Firebirdd
Summary: My own take on how Grace and Neil's relationship from the end of Intervention through to the end of Respect Part II developed. Neil/Grace, with a starring role for Jake Manson, and regular appearances from the ensemble. Now complete.
1. The First Date, Part I

**Title:** Reaching Normality

**Rating:** T for some language and a bit of heavy breathing in later chapters

**Disclaimer:** Alas, Talkback Thames owns the Bill, not I. Otherwise they'd still be producing episodes full of all our favourites.

**Characters:** DI Neil Manson, DC Grace Dasari, DC Jo Masters, Jake Manson, Superintendant Jack Meadows and Ensemble.

**Summary:** How did Neil and Grace get from 'good weird' at the end of Intervention to where they were in Respect Part II?

**Author's Notes: **This story will sit in the canon-verse as strictly as it is possible to do – I've taken some creative license with the time difference between episodes where it was unclear. For anyone as OCD as me who wants to know my specific timeline, here goes: I placed _Intervention _two weeks before _Solace_, which was the day before _The Calling_. _Taking a Stand_ occurs about a week after that (three weeks after _Intervention_). _Who Dares Wins_ I've put as being a month after _Intervention_; and _Balance of Power_ is a couple of days after _Who Dares Wins_._ Respect_ Parts I and II occur two months after _Intervention_, with _Death Knock_ and _Tombstone _occurring in the interim time between _Balance of Power_ and the _Respect _episodes.

I've also taken some creative license with respect to Jake, whose role in the story will grow over time. In the series, they were not specific on his condition, so I've assumed he's got the most common form of childhood leukaemia: acute lymphoblastic leukaemia. Neil will explain to Grace what this entails later in the story, but all details on his illness are as correct as I can make them.

* * *

Neil looked across; double-checking Grace had buckled her seatbelt. She smiled awkwardly at him, as he started the engine and pulled out of the station.

"I know I said a drink," he began, indicating right. "But I was…well…you haven't eaten yet and neither have I, so I was wondering if maybe I could upgrade that to dinner? There's this great little Italian I know." He glanced nervously at her.

"Dinner sounds great, guv," she said, automatically adding the honorific as she fiddled with the clasp on her handbag in her lap.

"Neil," he corrected immediately, glad there was one issue he knew how to clear up. "No work, remember? Or 'hey, you', whatever works."

Grace smiled in amusement. "Okay, Neil."

"Music?" he offered, clearing his throat, after a few moments of silence. "I promise no rave music."

"Sure," she said, unable to restrain a smile at the reference to his youth. He leant forward and jabbed one of the buttons, and the sounds of classical music wafted from his speakers.

"Rave music and classical?" she asked sceptically.

"I like pretty much all kinds of music," Neil admitted. "Except for modern rap and that hip/hop rubbish. You can change the station if you want."

"Thank goodness for that," Grace laughed. "And no, I'm a fan of classical music."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. It was one of the things she'd liked about Neil Manson from the beginning: he never felt the need to fill silences. That was one thing Sunil had never understood; if she didn't speak with him, he'd assume she was mad at him when in actual fact she just didn't feel like talking. Her hands stilled abruptly. It was only a first date (which hadn't really started yet), and already she'd compared Neil, _her boss_, to her ex-fiancé. A boss she was still pretty pissed at, if she were honest.

"We're here," Neil announced, pulling over and parking on a quiet suburban street. "A friend of mine lives in the area, and we sometimes come here for dinner."

It was also, she noted with some relief, a good twenty minutes to half an hour out of Sun Hill. Unbuckling her seatbelt and getting out of the car, she was surprised when Neil shut the car door behind her and offered her his arm nervously. Slipping her arm through his, he steered them towards the restaurant on the corner.

It was an understated, yet tastefully done formal restaurant, full of smartly dressed adults and older children. The murmur of the place grew louder as they approached.

"Good evening, sir, ma'am," the gangly, pimply boy at the front greeted them formally.

"Evening, Tom," Neil greeted him, eyes flicking down to the nametag. "Table for two, name of Manson?"

"Right this way, sir," Tom led them to a small table at the back of the restaurant, skilfully dodging waiters carrying bowls of food and moving patrons.

Pulling her chair out, Neil waited for Grace to seat herself before pushing the chair in and taking his own seat at the opposite end of the table. Grace took a menu from the middle of the table, taking the opportunity to survey it.

"Their pastas are pretty good," Neil told her, himself surveying the menu only briefly before reaching for the wine list. "Wine?"

"Please," Grace said. She needed it after the day she'd had. "A white, please."

"Good evening, are you ready to order drinks, sir, ma'am?" a waiter asked, appearing next to their table. Grace redoubled her attention on the menu as Neil ordered for them both.

"I might get this one," Grace said, stabbing her finger down on the menu. She smiled sheepishly at Neil. "I've never been able to pronounce these words." Neil smiled slightly in return, turning to the waiter and confidently rolling the words off his tongue before ordering his own meal.

"Anything else?" the boy asked.

"No, thank you," Neil replied, as Grace shook her head. Their waiter nodded and left.

"You're not going to tell me you speak Italian, are you?" Grace asked, referring to his earlier display of linguistic ability. Neil smiled.

"No, no," he assured her. "I speak Spanish pretty well, and there's enough similarities for me to be able to work out the pronunciation."

"That makes sense," Grace nodded, recalling his ex-wife and son lived in Spain.

"Look, Grace, I know I said I wanted to make a point to not talk about work," Neil started after a brief moment of silence. "But I wanted to - I wanted to apologise. I've been, well, a complete bastard for the last month, especially to you."

"I thought this was a date, not you apologising," Grace raised an eyebrow.

"It is," Neil scrambled to assure her. "I just…I wanted to say that."

"Apology accepted," Grace said, with a smile. His acknowledgment of his behaviour made her feel a little better. "I, er, so has your son gone back to Spain?"

"No," Neil answered her tentative question. "He's with Pippa and Liam, her new husband, visiting his brother in Lancashire. They left this morning."

"Must be difficult," Grace unknowingly echoed Banksy's words.

"Watching another man play father to your son," Neil acknowledged out loud. "Yeah. But, well, Jake needs to be close to St Hugh's and Dr Lawson for his treatment for now, so he'll be in England a while longer."

The waiter returned to the table with a bottle of wine, and two glasses. Neil thanked him, and poured them each a glass.

"I thought you said he was in remission?" Grace frowned in confusion. "Or do you mean in case something happens?"

"There's three phases to treatment of acute lymphoblastic leukaemia, which is what Jake has," Neil informed her. "We've just completed the first phase. It's called induction therapy, and so he spent six weeks in hospital receiving chemotherapy to induce remission. We're just about to enter the consolidation phase – they've given him a week off – which is another intense period which is designed to consolidate the remission. This phase is going to last several months, but he'll only be in hospital for short bursts, a few days at a time. Then we'll go into the maintenance phase, to make sure the cancer doesn't relapse, which will involve going to the hospital only once a month. And of course, regular tests and so forth."

The words spilled out of his mouth like a flood, increasing in speed as he continued, and Grace could only stare at him. It was a stark contrast to how relaxed he'd been in the car – she'd never seen him so worked up before.

"How long does this last phase last?" she asked softly.

Neil laughed bitterly. "Three years," he said, quietly, dropping his eyes.

"Three years!" Grace exclaimed. Despite the small part of her that was still furious at him for blocking her out, she couldn't help herself from reaching across the table and touching the back of his hand lightly. "I'm so sorry, Neil."

Neil looked up at her again, and for the second time that day, she could see the raw vulnerability in his eyes.

"Thank you," he said so quietly she had to strain to hear it.

Neil hesitated, unsure of how much detail to go into. He didn't want to scare her off: having a child with another woman was certainly enough of a burden, let alone one as sick as Jake - let alone telling her that if they decided to make it more than one date she'd be actively competing with his son. Recalling how upset she'd been that he hadn't told her about Jake in the first place, he decided to take the risk.

"Liam's going back to Spain at the end of the week, but Pippa's going to stay for the consolidation phase. We're going to decide next week, but most likely after the consolidation therapy finishes, when he's able to go back to school, Pippa will go back to Spain and he'll live with me."


	2. The First Date, Part II

**Author's Notes:** Thank you all very much for your kind reviews! I hope the story can live up to expectations. To everyone looking forward to Jake, he'll be a few more chapters down the line...he's spending the week with his mum. This chapter's pretty heavy on dialogue, as any good first date ought to be.

* * *

Grace searched for words, all too aware of Neil's warm, smooth skin under her fingertips and his nervous brown eyes on her. Deciding to be bold, she wrapped her hand around the top of his, gently squeezing his hand.

"I'm glad for you," she said simply, her words accompanied by a warm, honest smile. His eyes lightened, and a disarmingly boyish smile slipped from behind his impassive mask.

"I'm looking forward to it," he admitted. "It'll be a challenge, getting used to each other again but..."

"I'm sure you'll make it work out," Grace assured him. "One of my cousins, Abhishek, is divorced. He's recently got back shared custody of his nine year old daughter and six year old son. It was rough for him, especially at first. And tough on the kids too, having been out of our family for so long, but they've adjusted really well."

"Abhishek," Neil carefully pronounced. "That's a traditional name…"

"My family's very traditional," Grace said, rolling her eyes slightly. "So they call me by my middle name, which is traditional too. Father gave my sister and I Anglicised names to 'maximise our opportunities'."

"What's your middle name?" Neil asked.

"Anushri," Grace answered.

"Grace Anushri Dasari," Neil carefully pronounced, a shy smile spreading across his face. "It's really pretty."

Grace blushed, still very aware of his warm hand beneath hers and the fact that he hadn't moved it an inch. "What about you, do you have a middle name?"

It was Neil's turn to blush. "Don't laugh," he warned. "Atticus."

"Atticus?" Grace rolled it off her tongue. "Obviously from _To Kill a Mockingbird_."

"Yeah. My mother loved that book," Neil admitted.

"It's a cool name," Grace said. "Very…very you. Neil Atticus Manson." It did suit him, old-fashioned and yet a little quirky.

"So, you have a sister, obviously," Neil said. "Younger or older?"

"Three years younger," Grace told him. "Her name is Anita. What about you, any siblings?"

"Sister again," Neil informed her. "Eight years older. Sarah."

"That makes sense," Grace mused out loud, taking a sip of wine. Neil tilted his head in question.

"I always pegged you for an only child, but with that age gap…"

"I might as well have been," Neil completed her sentence with a smile. "Are you close to your sister?"

"Did I mention my family was traditional?" Grace asked with a laugh. "My sister is my best friend, but even if we hated each other we'd still see each other all the time."

"So you've got one of those famous large families then?" Neil asked. Grace rolled her eyes.

"My father is the eldest of eight, while my mother's the middle of twelve. So I've got forty-two first cousins, and over a hundred second cousins," Grace shared.

Neil whistled. "And you keep in contact with all of them?" he asked incredulously, reaching for a sip of wine.

"Most of them," Grace told him. "Every couple of years we do the requisite reunion thing."

"Must be nice to have such a large family," Neil mused. "My sister and I boarded as kids, so we weren't close until Jake was born. She loves kids, so she was an instant, free babysitting service."

"Don't get me wrong, I love my family," Grace said. "But it's difficult, especially when you're one of the disappointments."

"Disappointment?" Neil asked in surprise. "You? You're a successful, smart, funny and attractive woman!"

"Well," Grace smiled bitterly, blushing at the undiluted praise. "I didn't marry Sunil Davdra and become a good Indian housewife."

"Ah," Neil said, hesitating slightly. "Was it an arranged thing, then?"

"Not really," Grace said, but she was interrupted by the waiter returning with two large bowls of pasta, setting them down on the table. She reluctantly withdrew her hand from his, picking up her fork and twirling the pasta on it. "I mean, I met him at university through some family friends but it wasn't 'arranged'. My father, for all his faults, wouldn't have forced it, but…I probably wouldn't have agreed to marry him if my family hadn't kept up the pressure, and if he hadn't proposed to me in front of them all."

Looking down, surprised she'd revealed so much, she took a bite of the pasta.

"Good?" Neil asked anxiously, twirling some of his own meal on his fork.

"It's wonderful," she said honestly, looking back up at him. He smiled again (a new record for her, four smiles in the space of no more than twenty minutes).

"What made you break it off?" Neil asked a few moments later, unable to restrain his curiosity. "If I can ask."

"I went through a rough patch and he wasn't there to support me," Grace said slowly. "What about you and Philippa?"

Neil winced slightly. "Turnaround's fair play," he muttered, taking another bite as he considered how best to answer. Swallowing, he carefully said, "That's a long, involved answer. Pippa and I … well, we'd dated since we were seventeen and were divorced by the time we were 34. There was lots of stuff between, but I think the crux of it was we just brought out the worst in each other."

"Ah," Grace said inanely, delicately picking some of the garnish out, unsure of what to say. Silence descended once more, and both were reminded of why the 'no-ex-talk' rule was so stridently advocated. Grace became keenly aware of how weird the last half hour really was; chatting warmly, intimately even with a man who was not only a co-worker, but her direct superior.

"Why did you become a police officer?" she blurted out, breaking the silence a few minutes later.

"I thought we weren't talking about work…" Neil replied somewhat slyly.

"We're not, we're talking about your road to work," Grace rebutted, pointing her fork at him. "Now spill."

"Ma'am," Neil inclined his head jokingly. "Well, becoming a dragon-slaying magic user was kind of not really an option, so I opted for Sherlock Holmes."

Grace raised her eyebrows dubiously.

"Seriously!" Neil insisted. "Being a detective always appealed to me: piecing things together, catching bad guys and locking them up. How about you?"

"Well, you know my background," Grace told him. "Stemmed from an interest in criminal psychology. Graduated with a doctorate, and decided to practically apply it rather than writing books about something of which I'd no practical experience."

"Would you write a book?" Neil asked curiously, waving his fork. "You know, later?"

Grace tilted her head to one side. "I think I'd like to, yeah," she smiled a little sheepishly. "Sounds a bit stupid, I know, but-"

"No it doesn't," Neil contradicted her. "I think it'd be a great idea."

Grace smiled at him girlishly, ducking her head a little to hide her blush as she took another bite of her pasta.

The remainder of dinner passed amicably, as did dessert, punctuated by little moments of surprise on both sides at how easy and natural it seemed to speak to each other.

The conversation broke off when Grace suddenly yawned. "Sorry," she said, embarrassed, but beginning to feel exhausted.

"It's been a long day," Neil reassured her quietly, signalling to the waiter for the bill. "Come on, I'll drop you back to your car."

* * *

"I had a great night, thank you," Neil said somewhat awkwardly, hands in his pockets as he stood between their cars in the station carpark. He'd carefully checked to make sure no idle eyes were watching them, although it didn't really seem that necessary given they would be leaving separately.

"Me too," Grace assured him.

"Maybe, maybe we could make it dinner and a movie, next time you're free?" Neil asked hopefully.

"Tomorrow after you finish work?" Grace blurted out. A huge smile spread shyly across Neil's face, illuminated by the station lights behind her. "I'm off tomorrow."

"Brilliant," he said, bouncing on his heels. "How about I pick you up at yours, say, seven-thirty?"

"Perfect," Grace said, smiling in response. _Bashfully adorable, that's what he is!_ For a long moment, they stood there, grinning at each other like idiots.

"Are there any movies that you would like to see?" Neil asked.

"Have you seen Inception yet?" Grace asked. "I haven't, but a few friends have told me it's worth it."

"No, but I've heard the same," Neil agreed. "Cool. I'll see you tomorrow at half seven."

"Yep," Grace said, inanely, feeling slightly more awkward now she knew the dreaded 'good-bye, kiss or no kiss' part of the evening had arrived.

Neil took the initiative, leaning in and placing a light, lingering kiss on the very corner of her mouth. Grace could feel her heart pounding as her eyes fluttered shut at the warm, electric contact.

"Good night," he wished her, drawing back.

"Good night, Neil," she replied softly, opening her car door.


	3. Busted

**Author's Notes:** Thank you all again for your reviews! Mild spoilers for the movie _Inception _follow … but I think the dialogue is understandable if you haven't seen the movie.

* * *

Grace was accustomed to having her days off work fly by, leaving her almost as exhausted at the end as at the beginning. Cleaning her apartment thoroughly, doing the ironing, going for lunch with a girlfriend or two and any other miscellaneous jobs left little room for sitting idly. Today had been an exception – it had dragged unbearably.

At least right up until the point where she stood, staring at her open wardrobe full of clothes, with nothing to wear. Then, of course, the time started flying by.

She'd immediately discarded the idea of wearing her work clothes. Although comfortable, she really, really wanted this…whatever it was…to move away from DI Manson and DC Dasari and wearing work clothes was not going to aid that process. Hopefully the DI – Neil, she corrected herself in her head – would change too.

Unfortunately, she spent so much time at work that there wasn't a lot left. Under normal circumstances, getting this stuck on choosing what clothes to wear would have resulted in a quick call to Jo. Only, this wasn't normal circumstances and that wasn't an option. Grace could just see that call going down well, "Hi Jo, yeah, I've got a date with Neil Manson and I've no idea what to wear."

"Oh, just pick something, he'll be here soon," she muttered to herself: knowing she was being ridiculous was not helping her be decisive. Finally, she decided on a long, dark blue skirt and a long-sleeved v-neck white top, finishing the look with a silver pendant and bracelet.

* * *

Neil rang the doorbell, bouncing lightly from foot to foot as he concentrated on not fiddling with the bouquet of flowers in his hand. Being clichéd hadn't particularly worried him, what had worried him more was the possibility of moving too fast. While he'd gone on dates since _ohgodohgod_ Andrea, this was more serious than any of the handful of dates that had been scattered over the last few years. For starters, he valued Grace's friendship deeply and he enjoyed working with her. She _got_ him, in a way that few did. Being without her stalwart support in the office over the past few months had been difficult.

The door opened, and an obviously nervous Grace appeared. Wracking his brains, Neil quickly realised the last time he would have seen her dressed so…girly… would've been the Christmas party dinner when he'd stationed himself right across from Jack Meadows in a desperate attempt to prevent his eyes from lingering inappropriately.

Grace couldn't resist looking him up and down. Wearing jeans, a dark blue and white checked button down shirt and an obviously well-loved leather jacket, he looked more casual than she'd ever seen him. And more nervous than she'd seen him in a while.

"Hi," they said at the same time, catching each other's eyes.

Neil broke first, an amused smile at their mutual nervousness breaking free. Grace laughed in response, glad to know she hadn't been the only person over-analysing.

"You look nice," he said warmly, offering her the flowers. "These are for you."

Grace blushed as she accepted the half-dozen pink roses with thanks. Inviting him in, she quickly ducked into the kitchen to retrieve a vase. Arranging the flowers in it, she thanked him again before placing them in the middle of the kitchen bench.

"I just need to grab my purse," Grace told him. He nodded, hands in his pockets, apparently struck dumb.

Grace returned to find him examining one of the photos on the wall.

"That's my sister, her husband Ganesh, my nieces Anjali and Priya, and my nephew Ravi," Grace told him, pointing them out.

"Your sister went traditional, then," Neil commented, making his way outside and waiting as she locked the door. "With the names, I mean."

"After much soul-searching," Grace told him as they walked to the car.

Neil huffed lightly. "Yeah," he said. "Naming Jake was enough of a hassle, without that particular problem of deciding whether or not to go with cultural names."

"So, is it 'Jake', or is that short for 'Jacob'?" Grace asked.

"Just 'Jake'. Jake Alexander," Neil replied, opening the door for her, and shutting it once she was inside. Sliding in the other side of the car, he continued, "He just … felt like a Jake when I held him for the first time. Not a Jacob."

Like the previous night, both felt themselves surprised at the ease of conversation between them, slipping between very personal and very frivolous issues on the drive to the cinema. Neil had picked a small one a good twenty minutes from Sun Hill to minimise the probability of running into anyone they knew from work. Although, Neil, mused, part of the reason conversation was so easy was because they already knew each other – for his part, he was sure that he'd betrayed just how much attention he'd paid to little throwaway comments she'd made over their three-year relationship.

* * *

"I'll get tonight," Grace said quietly as they stood in line for tickets. Neil looked at her in surprise, his traditional values urging him to refuse. Knowing Grace however, while she wasn't a card-carrying feminist or anything, she would certainly reject such a display of male ego.

"You get the movies, I'll get dinner?" he suggested as a compromise instead. "Alternate activities?"

Grace smiled fondly at him, recognising the 'compromise' for what it was – an offer to pay for the more expensive part of the evening. "Alternate activities," she agreed finally.

Neil's phone trilled a text message notification as they made their way into the theatre. Sitting down, he delicately balanced the large box of popcorn on his lap as he pulled his mobile from his pocket.

"Is it work?" Grace asked worriedly.

"No, no," Neil looked up with a quick smile. "Jake. Breaking curfew. I rang him to say goodnight just before I picked you up – he's supposed to be in bed by 7.30." Hesitating slightly, he moved the screen so she could see it.

_Da-ad_, it read. _Whatcha doing? Love Jake._

Grace watched Neil tap a message back, smiling to himself.

_Watching a movie_, he responded. _And you're meant to be asleep kid. Not sleepy? Love Dad_

The reply came instantly. _What movie? No. I had a really long nap today._

_Inception_, Neil replied. _And you should really try to sleep otherwise you'll sleep in tomorrow and be lethargic the rest of the day._

_The one with di Craprio?_ _Is it good? _Jake's next text had Grace smothering a laugh, as Neil shook his head.

"He's testing the limits of his vocabulary," he sighed.

_Language_, was the scolding text. _And it's just about to start so I'm about to turn off my phone. Try and get some sleep son before mum busts you. Love you heaps._

_Tell me if it's good. Night daddy love you back._

"Awww," Grace teased gently. Neil just grinned somewhat sheepishly.

"He's a bit bored, I think," he said, switching his phone off and tucking it into his pocket.

"How old is he?" Grace asked.

"Ten, eleven in December," Neil replied before adding wryly, "Looking forward to his Hogwarts letter."

Grace laughed, but her reply was forestalled by the lights in the theatre going out.

* * *

Some two hours later, the end credits rolled and the lights came back on.

"That was intellectual," Grace said as her first response, glancing at Neil who smiled wryly.

"Yeah, I'm not used to thinking that much in a movie," Neil acknowledged, letting his head flop around to face her fully. "What do you reckon – did he get out of the dream or not?"

"I hope he wasn't still in the dream," Grace answered with a frown. "But I'm not sure."

"I don't think he did," Neil told her standing and stretching his arms up and neck back with a groan. "Reckon it was all a dream."

"Pessimist," Grace accused him, getting to her feet as well. He shrugged.

"Reality is what we make of it," he said. "Who cares if it's a dream – so long as it's good?"

"Now _that's_ a metaphysical statement I hadn't anticipated from you," Grace said, beginning to edge forward in the row. "That implies no objective truth, which leads you into all sorts of trouble for our line of work."

"No, there's certainly objective truth," Neil insisted. "But our experience of reality is subjective - case in point, the witness statements Stevie submitted to me today. Same incident, a minor aggravated burglary, but with five completely different accounts."

"Ah, objective truth exists, the problem is that of accessing it," Grace summarised. It made sense, in a Neil kind of way as he nodded.

"From metaphysics to mere physics, how neat were those hallway scenes ?" Neil asked with a boyish smile as they reached the end of the row. Grace boldly slipped her hand into his, and he smiled shyly at her in response, squeezing her hand gently.

"They were all right," Grace acknowledged, deliberately nonchalantly.

"All right?" Neil's voice turned indignant. "You clearly lack taste: they were marvellous! Fighting while floating in a corridor, climbing up walls and on the ceiling –" Grace was unable to repress her smile any longer. "Oh, oh, I see how it is. You were mocking my appreciation of the fine special effects."

"They were pretty spectacular," Grace agreed. "I wonder how they did it."

Neil frowned. "Green screen?" he asked dubiously.

"That doesn't explain how they appeared to be floating. I think harnesses digitally removed afterwards," Grace countered more plausibly.

"That gives you the acrobatic flips, but what about moving along the hallway?" Neil objected. Still speculating on the matter as they followed the crowds into the cinema foyer, Grace glanced over in confusion at Neil as he stopped dead. The reason for his preoccupation soon became clear: a stern looking Jack Meadows was frowning at them from across the line of people for the lolly bar.


	4. Released with a Caution

**Author's Note: **Thanks again for the reviews – they mean a lot. Here we go with the showdown…

* * *

"We'd better talk to him," Neil said quietly. Grace nodded, and reluctantly moved to drop his hand, but Neil kept his grip firm as he led the way to their boss.

"Neil, Grace," Jack greeted evenly, having paid for his food and that of his companion. Neil vaguely recognised her from one of the borough meetings – Julie, or something. A DCI if he remembered right.

"DI Manson," she nodded with a polite smile.

"Ma'am," he replied with a nod. Sensing the tension between the other three adults, Jack's date quickly excused herself and went to wait for Jack by the stairs.

"Jack," Neil greeted his superior informally, refusing to back down. Jack sighed, paying an inordinate amount of attention to their joined hands.

"How long has this been going on then?" he asked gruffly.

"Two dates," Neil replied honestly. "Well, one and a half."

"Two dates," Jack echoed resignedly. "So, you weren't on autopilot, you did just have an inappropriate interest."

Neil looked down, shoulders tightening. "I didn't-" he began, but Jack cut him off.

"We've been over this ground before," Jack said harshly, but his tone was belied by a resigned sigh. The instant Grace had introduced herself to him on the first day, Jack had known there'd be a real chance of something like this happening. She was exactly Neil's type: a highly intelligent, independent, empathetic brunette. True to his prediction, he'd watched as Neil went from respecting her at the beginning of her tenure, to Neil fancying her rotten a handful of months later. Recently, Jack had noticed Neil starting to realise this, and had braced himself for the upcoming complications. Neil and Grace were about as discreet a couple as an employer could hope for, but that fact and his preparedness for this happening did not mean he would not issue a cautionary word or two...

"Neil, for the sake of your career, I just hope you've thought this through. You're in a very uncomfortable position should this not work out – as Grace's direct superior you could be open to all sorts of legal action–"

"I'm not going to bring a harassment suit against him," Grace interrupted firmly.

Jack looked at her evenly. "Not now, no. But what if it goes badly? He's also open to accusations of favouritism and bias –"

"With respect, Jack, you've already levelled those at me," Neil said. Grace looked at him in surprise. Jack switched his focus to Grace.

"It's not just Neil who'll have problems," Jack warned. "Grace, when people find out, and they will, it's a devil of a job to keep anything quiet in Sun Hill…well, Neil's not exactly Mr Popular. A lot of your colleagues won't be impressed."

"I don't think it's their business," Grace said evenly.

"Well, you've made up your minds then," Jack said. "I do trust you not to bring it to work; both of you, but you'll need to be careful. The slightest hint of anything that compromises either of you, and I will step in."

"We'll be careful," Grace answered for them, squeezing Neil's hand. Despite himself, Jack couldn't help but think what a striking and well-suited couple they made.

"Unofficially," Jack said uncomfortably. "Good luck."

Neil smiled. "Cheers, guv, enjoy the movie."

With that, Jack nodded and vanished up the stairs with his own date, oblivious to the fact he took with him much of Neil and Grace's relaxed, easy intimacy.

* * *

Neil sat down across the table from Grace at the small burger joint next to the cinema.

"Well, at least that saves me having to find a way to ask you if you were okay with me telling him," he said, trying to keep his tone light but failing. "And trying to find out a way to tell him!"

"Yeah," Grace hesitated, unsure how to phrase her question. "What was he talking about, at the beginning?"

"You remember that gang rape case at the beginning of the year which I pulled you off, saying the Super wanted Jo on?" Neil asked slowly. Grace nodded. "That was him flexing muscle. He thought there was a trend of me offering you 'all the plum jobs' and told me that it would either be interpreted as being on autopilot or as me having an inappropriate interest. He told me not to bring it to work if it was the latter."

Grace couldn't help but laugh sardonically. "Ironically, wasn't that around the time we started having problems?"

Neil nodded slowly, his natural desire for reticence warring with his desire for this … whatever … to become a proper relationship.

"You scared me," he said honestly, and suddenly.

"Sorry?" Grace asked, confused.

"When you asked me to dinner after the Bickham thing," he waved his hands.

"I thought you thought that was a group outing?" Grace frowned, suddenly hurt.

"I did," Neil said. "Or I would've, I would've said yes. Mickey and Terry were packing up and they said they were going straight home and you hadn't invited them out and then I realised…"

"And by that time I'd already left?" Grace finished the story. Neil nodded. "Why did it take this long for you to ask me out? Was it because of Jake?"

"I bottled it," Neil admitted. "I couldn't stop thinking of all the reasons _not_ to ask you out. Our working relationship, the fact that I'm…really really bad at this... And then Jake was ill and we didn't know what was going on then we found out then I just…I couldn't deal with it."

"Well, I'm glad you did," Grace said shyly. "Ask me out that is."

"Me too," Neil said with a crooked, tentative smile.

"Speaking of work," Grace said awkwardly as the waiter placed a burger in front of each of them. "It's not that I don't – it's not that I want to hide this or anything…I just…"

"I think we should take this slowly," Neil took up her train of thought.

"Exactly," Grace said in relief. "Although, they will find out…the Super was right, Sun Hill's a gossip haven."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Neil assured her. "Look, I don't know where this is going, but I want us to find out. And I don't want the nick involved."

"Me either," Grace assured him. "It's decided then, quiet at work, and we're dating, but slowly."

Neil nodded his approval, before glancing down at his plate. "Now, ma'am, if you'll excuse me," he said lightly. "I'm about to demonstrate how uncivilised I am – there's no neat way to eat a burger."

Grace laughed in agreement as they attacked their burgers with zeal.

This time it was Neil whose yawn interrupted their evening. Grace smiled.

"We've got to be at work early tomorrow," she said, lightly touching his arm as she got to her feet. Neil did the same, and then shyly reached for her hand. The feel of his warm hand enveloping hers sent shivers up the right side of her body, and she couldn't restrain a giddy grin which he returned.

* * *

"Thank you again," Neil said, hands stuffed in his pockets as he stood outside her door.

Grace ran through the possible responses: _Me too, _was too … wishy-washy, _No, thank __you_ was painfully formal, _I had a great time_ seemed repetitive…

Relaxed by the late hour and the ease of the night, she decided to simply do what she'd been dying to do since he'd turned up on her doorstep in a leather jacket, with pink flowers and a shy smile. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she leaned up on her tiptoes and lightly pressed her lips to his.

Neil froze at the unexpected contact, his eyes slamming shut involuntarily. Her lips fitted perfectly to his, and the contact was warm and electric, sending a thrill down his spine. Relaxing a little, he kissed her back in the same manner.

Grace drew back, removing her hands from his shoulders, lips tingling.

"Good night," she said, somewhat dumbstruck by the dazed look on his face which she knew was mirrored on hers. If a perfectly chaste kiss could do that to them both, she couldn't help wondering what would happen when they took it further. Neil smiled foolishly at her and she felt her stomach flip again.

"Yeah," he said, breathlessly. "See you tomorrow."

"Yeah," Grace replied, watching as he turned back down the hallway, flicking a final smile over his shoulder.


	5. Making Amends

**Author's Notes: **Thank you all for the kind reviews, as always. This chapter has not got much Grace/Neil, we're back to work and the rest of CID, but rest assured the next chapter is quite shippy.

* * *

The morning briefing was probably the toughest part of the day, Grace mused. Over the past forty-eight hours, she'd been able to indulge herself by letting her gaze linger on him more than was appropriate at work, and she was trying hard not to let her staring become obvious. Still, if she got caught, it was his fault. He looked _good_ today, in one of his sharp black suits, dark grey shirt and a silver and blue tie.

Neil was back in sync with her though, as if the last few months of fighting at work hadn't happened, and he seemed to recognise this. He paired her with Terry taking on a job outside the station, and away from his direct supervision.

"You and the DI all right?" Terry asked as he put the car into gear and headed off to the house.

"Sorry?" Grace kept her voice cool and disinterested as her heart thudded to a stop in her chest.

"Well, the other day, you and he had a pretty big row," Terry said quietly. "And he's treated you like dirt over the past few weeks."

"We're okay," Grace told him, hesitating before stretching the truth. "He apologised, said he hadn't meant to take out his worry about his son on me but the Wallace case…"

"Ah, the dead boy," Terry realised, albeit grudgingly. Grace felt some surprise that Terry wasn't being more understanding: he was, after all, a father like Neil. "Hit too close to home, and you were the one looking after the family."

"First in the firing line," Grace said in acknowledgement. "Although I think Eddie got his fair share too."

"I think we all did," Terry muttered. Grace suppressed the desire to stand up for Neil, instead shrugging slightly and turning her attention back to the road.

* * *

The day rolled to an end – a simple burglary was, for once in Sun Hill, simple, and before she knew it Grace was handing in her completed report beside Terry. Neil barely looked up, concentrating on clearing his desk as he filed their reports in his briefcase.

"Pub?" Stevie asked breezily as she stopped by Neil's door, Mickey and Banksy at her shoulder. "Uniform and Eddie are joining us."

"Always," Terry said. "You buying, Sarge?"

"No, I think it's my turn to shout a round or two," Neil interjected blandly as he got to his feet and shrugged his coat on.

"You can be sure everyone will be there then," Stevie said, after a brief silence. Turning to the rest of CID, she bellowed, "Oi, pub, DI's buying."

"Thanks, Stevie," Neil said dryly.

"Just doing my best to help you empty your bank balance, guv," she said cheerily with an unrepentant grin. Neil scrambled to get a hold on his briefcase as Stevie slipped her arm through his, pulling him out of the office.

"We'll see you down there, Grace, Terry," she called over her shoulder, escorting their grumbling DI to the stairs.

* * *

Entering the pub with Terry, Grace's eyes were immediately drawn to Neil, standing in the group of officers at one end of the bar. It looked like the others had already taken advantage of his offer, all enjoying their drinks. It was unusually quiet – apart from the Sun Hill officers, only a handful of people were scattered around the room.

"Usual?" Neil asked them. At their nods, he quickly ordered their drinks. Just as he'd placed the order, Eddie arrived with Smithy and Jo, and Neil sighed. "We need to work on getting entrances more streamlined," he muttered.

"Well, if it isn't DI Manson," Eddie said in hostile surprise. "Been a while since you joined us here."

"Come with me, Eddie, I'll buy you a drink," Neil said wearily, setting his own pint down and moving towards the larger man, clapping him on the shoulder and steering him away from the group. The two men took up next to the bar, Neil talking quietly and seriously.

"Eddie hasn't heard then, yet," Grace noted.

"No," Jo said quietly. "I mean, yesterday the news went through uniform. Kind of surprised he didn't do the buying-drinks-apologies thing last night, to be honest, pretty much everyone knew."

"He said he was visiting Jake before he left for the country," Banksy told her. Grace concentrated on her drink, determined not to blush.

"And that's fair," Smithy said, in defence of his fellow inspector. While he considered his Inspectoring mentor to be Gina, not Neil, he couldn't deny that Neil's support over the past months had been invaluable – giving him little hints or prompts. Especially in the new management meetings he was now required to attend and sometimes fell asleep in. "Poor little guy. You remember him, Mickey? Sharp kid, a real chip off the old block."

"Yeah, he was a nice kid," Mickey smiled. "Came in once for a school project, was swapping stories and getting up to mischief, well, until some criminal threatened him in the bathroom right under Will Fletcher's nose."

Any further elaboration was forestalled by Eddie and Neil's return, the tension between the two men largely dissipated.

"Here, guv," Stevie handed the DI his pint as he made his way back to his former spot leaning against the bar.

"Cheers," Neil took it, just as his mobile rang. Juggling his pint, he pulled the offending object out. He looked about, obviously uncomfortable about answering it in front of them. Stevie and Banksy who were hemming him were studiously oblivious to his discomfort, and indeed shifted to make it even more awkward for him to escape. With a slight shrug, he answered quietly.

"Hey, Jakey! All right, how was your day? Mm. Yeah, at the pub. Work people. Yeah, I will. Jake…fine," he looked up at the group of officers, who were doing a rotten job at pretending they weren't listening in. "Jake says hi."

"Say hi back," Smithy said immediately, along with Stevie.

"Did you get that? N'yeah. So, what did you get up to today?" Neil took a long sip of his pint, obviously listening to an involved story on the other end of the line. "Sounds good. Paperwork. Son, there are lame parts to any job – I can't think of a single one that doesn't involve paperwork. Yeah, well, garbage collectors would have to … compile reports on garbage. I don't know, but even if they didn't have paperwork, Jake, would you really want to be a garbage collector? No? Didn't think so," Stevie giggled. Neil's eyes darted to his watch, as he continued, "ah, I heard that yawn, Jake Manson, sleep time. No buts, son, it's bedtime. Night, night. Love you too." He flicked the phone closed, expression carefully blank.

"Bed-time? It's only 7.30pm!" Eddie asked incredulously, his own eyes darting for the clock. "How old's your kid?"

"Eleven in about six months," Neil replied. "But he gets tired easily. If he goes to bed much later than this he'll sleep most of the day."

"So when does Jake go back to Spain, guv?" Banksy asked.

"He won't," Neil replied. "His paediatrician is here, and he's gotten used to St. Hugh's, so…"

Stevie looked at him sharply. "So will he be living with you, then?"

"We're discussing it," Neil said quietly.

"Good," Jack Meadows' strident voice carried easily over the murmur of the pub. "I'll be able to stop paying you so much damn overtime."

Neil nodded in amusement, eyes twinkling as he signalled the barman for Jack's usual.

"On the downside," he said lightly. "You'll have to drag yourself out in the middle of the night now. I won't have anyone able to look after him at two in the morning."

"Nah, Smithy'll have to get those calls," Jack said with a smirk. Smithy groaned loudly.

"You're going to owe me," he pointed his beer mock-accusingly at Neil, who shrugged unrepentantly.

That night in the pub went a long way towards repairing Neil's relationships with his co-workers. Although he still did not volunteer information about himself, he was uncharacteristically receptive to and candid about any questions his co-workers asked. Finally he yawned, setting his empty glass down.

"I'm off, good night," he said. Shooting a pointed look at Stevie and Mickey, he continued, "See you all bright and early."

Stevie snickered. "Sure guv," she said blithely, unconcerned about running late or not. Mickey's cheeky grin indicated a similar disregard for punctuality and the importance of not overindulging on alcohol on a work night.

"Sounds like a good idea, Neil," Jack agreed, downing his own glass. "I think I'll do the same. Good night."

"Me too," Grace said, eager to have a private moment with Neil and glad of Jack's departure which would cover her. Ignoring the sudden, contorted expression which spread across Jack's face, she hugged Jo and Stevie warmly, wished the CID boys a good night, and followed her superior officers out the door.


	6. An Impromptu Coffee Date

**Author's Notes:** Thanks again for the reviews - I really appreciate it when you take the time to let me know what you think!

* * *

Once outside, Jack quickly moved away from them to his own car, mumbling a good night.

Neil chuckled lightly, twirling his keys on his fingers. "Reckon we made him uncomfortable?"

Grace simply smiled at him, nodding her head to the left side of the carpark where she'd deliberately parked her car near his.

"Coffee at mine?" she asked, setting off. Sliding a sideways glance as he hesitated, obviously trying to work out what that meant, she smiled and helped him out. "Just coffee, relax."

Neil grinned back at her. "Sounds good," he said, lightly nudging her shoulder with his.

* * *

"I'd say they've forgiven you," Grace said as the kettle boiled, looking across to the dishevelled DI sprawled against her kitchen bench.

"Hope so," Neil replied, eyes lingering on her as she turned to pour their coffee.

Accepting the coffee, he smiled at her. At work, he found he had to concentrate on not letting his eyes betray him – here in her kitchen, he felt he might as well take advantage of the lack of overly perceptive and nosy detectives to indulge himself in examining her features.

"What?" Grace said, noticing his unwavering gaze.

"You're really beautiful, you know," Neil said without thinking, before shuddering. "That sounded creepy, sorry."

Grace blushed furiously, thanking her lucky stars that her darker complexion mostly hid that fact; unlike Neil, betrayed by his pale complexion.

"Not creepy," she said, smiling embarrassedly at him. "Just corny."

"Please don't tell anyone at work," Neil said wryly. "It'd ruin my hard-earned reputation as a miserable bastard."

Grace laughed, touching his arm affectionately. "Like they'd believe me," she said. "Anyway, sit down."

"Musical fan, then?" Neil asked, sipping his coffee as he nodded to the _Les Miserables _poster on her kitchen wall.

"I danced a bit in high school," Grace admitted, tracing the edge of her cup. "An interest in musical theatre was inevitable, I suppose."

"Danced?" Neil couldn't have sounded more intrigued if he'd tried.

"I started Bharatanatyam, um, traditional Indian dancing, when I was really young, and I loved it. When I was in high school I tried out ballet, jazz and tap as well. I stopped dancing at university, it just took too much time. But I try to make it to as many shows as I can, even though this year with work being so busy I haven't really made the time to go. And I was ill when a group of my friends went to see the main show I wanted to see this year…" aware she was babbling, Grace let her words trail away, blushing at Neil's fascinated stare.

"I never would have picked you for a dancer," Neil said interestedly. "Which show was that?"

"Andrew Lloyd Webber's sequel to the _Phantom of the Opera_," Grace replied with a shrug. "Plenty of time to see it yet, I just need to make a day to go."

"Ah, I've heard it's good, although it doesn't match up to the original," Neil nodded. "My best friend's wife currently works as a costume designer for one of the theatre companies, so I usually receive a first hand account of what is good to see."

"Are you a fan of musicals too?" Grace asked in surprise.

Neil shrugged. "Well, like I said, I like all kinds of music, and musicals have music in them so...Claire and Ricky usually drag me along if something's worth seeing."

As they continued to chat easily about what shows they'd seen, Grace's thoughts began to drift. She'd had always loved the way they worked together, completely attuned if not always in agreement (the last few months excepted), and she was gratified to see this ease transferred over to … well … this. She was reluctant to define it: thinking of Neil as her boyfriend in her head just seemed…too childish, while anything more was definitely far too presumptuous, especially given that they hadn't actually slept together. She hoped that there was a 'yet' dangling at the end of that sentence.

"You still there?" Neil's teasing tone brought Grace out of her musing. "Guess that's my cue to go."

"Sorry," Grace apologised, touching his hand lightly. "Just a little tired."

She loved the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled – and she was beginning to realise he didn't need to move his mouth at all to smile. A few times that day Grace had noticed the way he'd smiled at her just with his eyes, sending warm and fuzzy feelings dancing through her.

"It's okay," he assured her, getting up and taking her empty cup, rinsing both of them in the sink. "It was a long day.' Shrugging his jacket on, he led the way to the door, turning around as he stepped outside.

"Tonight wasn't really a proper date," he said awkwardly. "So, would it be too presumptuous to ask you out for dinner tomorrow?"

"Not at all," Grace hurried to assure him. He ducked his head again as he smiled, a trait Grace was finding more and more endearing.

"You going to kiss me tonight or am I going to have to make the first move again?" she teased, a warm smile lighting up her face. Neil chuckled bashfully, before stepping closer to her again and leaning in, his breath warm against her cheek as her own breathing hitched in anticipation.

Neil's lips covered hers, and Grace felt her knees weaken as he kissed her softly. Parting her lips, she gently tugged on his bottom lip with her teeth, opening his mouth in turn. Her tongue danced across from her mouth to his, ending up entangled with the tip of his tongue. He tasted of coffee, a faint hint of peanut – she recalled he'd been snacking on the peanuts at the pub – and of something quintessentially _Neil_.As they slowly explored each other's mouths, Grace tentatively slid her fingers into his hair. It was surprisingly soft, and longer at the top than she had thought. As she stroked his hair, he groaned into her mouth and brought his hands to rest lightly on her waist, tugging her closer. Thought processes ceased when he tilted his head, investigating her mouth from another angle, as one hand trailed lightly up her back, making her press closer to him.

"Wow," Neil's voice was high and breathy as he finally drew back in desperate need of oxygen, resting his forehead on hers as he inhaled shakily.

"Yeah," her own voice wasn't much steadier as she brushed her nose with his, sliding her lips back across his. _He has really nice eyes_, she noted, not for the first time. He smiled beneath her lips, and Grace couldn't resist returning it as she drew back and then pressed a kiss to his top lip. One of her hands was still entangled in his hair, while the other continued to caress his shoulders (quite independently of her brain which was still refusing to do anything but gabble excitedly and nonsensically). Having regained his breath (more or less) Neil captured her lips again and she melted into him.

Neil hadn't meant for this to go so far so fast. He'd meant for a nice, lingering kiss, with no more than a hint of tongue before he left – taking it slowly like they'd agreed. Butthe taste of her lips was addictive, and the feel of the soft skin at her neck beneath his fingers was, quite frankly, driving him crazy. Having lightly traced the back of her neck, he trailed his fingers along her jaw, caressing her cheek as if trying to commit that area of her face to memory. This touch caused her to gasp into his mouth, opening hers further and allowing him deeper access.

The dazed fog that had settled over them was broken abruptly by coarse jeering and sniggers and they reluctantly drew back.

"Get a room!" a drunken twenty-something year old walking in a group of mates called out to them as he passed by Grace's apartment.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to go that fast," Neil apologised breathlessly.

"I don't recall objecting at any point," Grace told him firmly and equally breathlessly as she continued to play with his hair. "I'd say we're equally to blame."

Neil ducked his head as one of his little, embarrassed half-smiles that Grace found so utterly endearing spread across his face. She leant in and pressed a light kiss against his lips.

"In the interests of keeping our earlier agreement to take this slowly," he mumbled, every few words punctuated by an exchange of kisses, "I'd better, mmh, I'd better go now."

"Yeah," Grace said, letting her hands trail slowly down to his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart that matched hers. "Good night."

"Good night," Neil replied, tucking her hair behind her ear and stealing another quick kiss before reluctantly letting go of her and turning away to head back downstairs.


	7. Everyone loves Friends, right?

**Author's Note:** Thanks again for all your reviews! A bit more of CID this chapter, but for those who have been looking forward to it, Jake makes his mark on the story in the next chapter...

* * *

The clock ticked interminably slowly.

"What's with you?" Stevie laughed half-heartedly. It had been one of those days that was just bad, despite nothing particularly traumatic.

"Sorry?" Grace asked, dragging her eyes from the clock on the wall towards that of the perceptive blonde sergeant seated opposite.

"You've been staring at that clock for the last ten minutes," Mickey chimed in.

"Hot date tonight?" Terry asked teasingly. Feeling herself begin to flush, Grace hurriedly took a sip of her lukewarm coffee in an attempt to hide her face while rolling her eyes at him. "Good luck persuading Emperor Manson to let you go early after he's done battle with the Huns of Scotland Yard."

Grace choked on the irony of the comment: Neil had been stuck in meetings with the Super and brass from the Yard all morning, returning supremely pissed at whatever had been handed down before being buried in paperwork for the afternoon. She was sure he'd jump at the chance to get out of there.

"Eugh, cold coffee," Grace said finally, after Terry had pounded her thoroughly on the back. "No, just feels like my brain's fried from paperwork."

"You're telling me," Stevie moaned back. "All I'd like to do right now is go home, have a nice glass of wine, a long, relaxing bath and watch some crappy TV."

The clock finally ticked over, and officers flooded out of CID. Grace purposely dawdled, and soon enough, CID was empty except for herself and the DI, utterly engrossed in whatever it was he was reading.

"Hey," she said quietly, leaning against his door jamb.

"Hey, yourself," he said, looking up at her. He looked stressed, lines on his face more pronounced and bags under his eyes accentuated.

"Rough day?" she asked, gesturing at his desk. He snorted once, nodding slightly as he started to clear the piles of paper.

"Just new targets and such. Too much damn politicking, not enough policing," he said tiredly. He hesitated, before quietly continuing, "Look, Grace, I don't really feel up to going out tonight."

"That's okay," Grace interrupted. "Neither do I, really."

"But, I was wondering," he hesitated again. "Well, I don't know, would you like to get takeout and just watch something at mine?"

"Pizza?" Grace asked with a shy grin. Neil grinned back at her, some of the stress vanishing from his frame.

"Brilliant," he said. "Half-Hawaiian for me, half cheese and tomato for you?"

"Okay, I'll pick it up on the way, boss," Grace said. It wasn't until Neil laughed that she realised what she'd done and she blushed.

"You were doing so well too," Neil teased, desk cleaned, standing and shrugging on his coat before following her out the corridor.

Grace groaned in acknowledgement. "It was bound to happen, though, just be grateful I didn't call you Neil in front of our colleagues. I might go home, shower and change first, though"

"Sure," Neil said easily. "You got my address?"

She hadn't, so Neil pulled his notebook out of his jacket pocket and scribbled it down, handing it to her.

"See you in a bit," she said, waving the paper at him before sliding into her own car.

* * *

Grace pulled up to his large, well-appointed house in the suburbs, relieved to recognise his car in the driveway. Getting out and making her way to the front door with their pizza, she couldn't help but be surprised at how well-kept the garden was: she'd never took him for a gardening type.

She hadn't even had the chance to ring the doorbell when his door swung open and she was greeted by the man himself: spiky, still-wet hair and the snug t-shirt making her insides flip.

"Come in," he said. She stepped into the front hallway and he shut the door behind her. Taking the pizza box from her hands, he leaned in and kissed her shyly.

"Mmm," she sighed as her eyes fluttered shut, returning the kiss warmly.

"Kitchen's this way," he said, leading her down the hallway past the staircase. She'd expected a modern bachelor's pad, but instead got a family home: toys, games and children's books were only put to one side, still easily accessible, and not stowed away.

Pulling out a couple of plates, he paused to see her hovering anxiously in the doorway of the kitchen.

"Drink?" he asked, waving her to one of the stools against what was obviously the breakfast bar. "Got wine, scotch, beer, water, milk, soft drink, tea, coffee, orange juice that probably is out of date…"

"Water will be fine, thanks," she said with a laugh. He grinned back at her, pouring them two glasses of water and sliding it over the kitchen counter. They demolished their pizza in record time, sitting back and wiping their fingers on napkins.

"Ice-cream?" Neil offered, getting up and moving to the freezer. "Vanilla, or chocolate?"

"Oooh," Grace stalled, trying to decide.

"Both, it's decided," Neil said with a grin, pulling both containers from the freezer. He scooped a generous amount of each type of ice-cream into two bowls before replacing the ice-cream in the freezer. Placing a spoon in each bowl, he picked them up and headed out of the kitchen. "C'mon."

Grace followed him to the lounge, sitting down next to him on the couch as he set their ice-cream down on the coffee table, flicking on the plasma and surfing through the channels.

"Not a lot on," he bemoaned, glancing at her. "Anything you fancy?"

"You passed a _Friends _rerun," she noted. "Everyone likes _Friends,_ right?" He chuckled and nodded, returning to it as she let her gaze wander around his lounge room. An eclectic mixture of books lined the bookshelves which stretched across the room, interspersed by photographs of Neil and Jake. CDs were stacked alphabetically in racks. The only pictures on the wall were those of Jake at various ages.

Neil laughed at something Joey said, and Grace glanced at him, engrossed in the show. Slumped on his couch, a bowl of vanilla and chocolate ice-cream in one hand and watching a **_Friends_** rerun (of all things), he seemed less like the enigmatic, broody DI she was used to and more like a perfectly normal middle-aged bloke.

It was nice, she decided, propping her feet up on the coffee next to his, and turning her attention to the screen.

* * *

As the end credits rolled, Neil turned towards her and pressed mute, condemning Joey and Chandler to silent movement.

"Hi," he said with a tired lopsided grin.

"You've got ice-cream on your chin," Grace told him fondly. He quickly wiped at his chin, looking to her for confirmation it had been cleaned off. Grace nodded, impulsively leaning forward and kissing him swiftly on the lips.

"You're adorable," she informed him. Neil screwed up his nose in distaste.

"Adorable," he repeated sceptically. "Thanks, that's very emasculating of you."

Grace laughed. "It's a good thing," she assured him.

"Jake comes back tomorrow," Neil said suddenly, remembering to tell her. "So tomorrow night he and I are going to have dinner. He's, uh, going to stay over this weekend while Pippa goes to Spain for the weekend with Liam."

"Guess I'll have to see you Monday then," Grace said, trying to banish all traces of disappointment from her voice.

"I'm sorry," Neil sighed heavily. She'd obviously been unsuccessful.

"What for?" Grace asked.

"It's not really easy, is it?" Neil asked as his expression closed into the impassive face he wore at work. Grace marvelled at how quickly she could see him sinking into one of his moods that, in the office, would have doors slamming, young PCs in tears and half of CID on the retreat.

"He's your son," Grace said firmly. "Of course you have to see him and spend time with him, especially if he's going to live with you. And, Neil, I wouldn't be sitting here right now if you weren't the kind of man who took that seriously."

Neil looked at her intently, brown eyes serious once more. Just as she was about to try and say something more, he leaned forward and kissed her deeply.

"I don't deserve you being so nice to me," he whispered.

Grace drew back slightly, cupping his face in her hands. "Now you're being absurd," she told him.

"I've been awful to you –"

"And I forgave you for it," Grace told him briskly. She softened her harsh tone with a warm kiss. "It's okay. Got it?"

Kissing him again, she was gratified to see much of the impassivity had faded away, leaving behind the more open Neil she was getting used to seeing.

"Okay," Neil allowed her words to comfort him, kissing her back gently.

_Wonder how much the guys at the office would pay me to do this during office hours_, Grace couldn't help but muse as the kiss ended. _Now that would be a good way to earn a living: kissing Neil Manson out of one of his moods._

"What?" the man asked of her resulting smile before kissing her again.

"Nothing," Grace lied, unable to rid herself of the smile.

"Liar," Neil accused, moving his attention to her jaw.

Grace bit back a moan as he reached the junction of her jaw and neck.

"Tell me," he whined, paying particular attention to that sensitive spot, finally eliciting a moan from her.

"Just wondering how much it'd be worth to the guys in the office for me to do this every day," Grace told him. Neil laughed against her neck; sliding his lips back up to meet hers in a slow, lazy kiss that stole her breath away. His hand stole up to cup the back of her head, keeping their lips connected as Neil tried to express his gratitude and affection for her through the delicate movements of his lips and tongue.

"Mmm," Grace sighed contentedly as they broke apart, needing some air. She lightly kissed him again, before dropping her head to his shoulder, snuggling into his side. He wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her ear gently.

"So, dinner Monday night?" Neil asked, tracing patterns lightly on her back.

"Where are you going to take me?" Grace asked playfully.

"To the moon and back," Neil quipped, dropping a kiss on her hair.

"Rave music, classical music, and now Savage Garden?" Grace asked incredulously.

His laughter vibrated through them both.

"Jake likes that song," he justified childishly. "And the fact you recognised the reference indicates you do too."

"Busted," Grace admitted a little sheepishly. "It's…I don't know. I like it. Anyway, dinner?"

"Is there anything you'd like?"

"Thai?" Grace's suggestion was met by an approving murmur from Neil.

* * *

Grace closed the door behind her with a wide yawn. Another couple of hours of quiet talking, kissing and watching whatever was on TV (and she readily admitted to having paid far more attention to the warm, comfortable mass known as Neil Manson she'd been cuddling with than to the TV) had passed before she'd reluctantly extricated herself from her human blanket with a dozen reassurances that she could drive the ten minutes to her apartment.

It would probably be good for them to have the weekend off, she mused. So much had changed since Neil's announcement on Tuesday, only a handful of days ago, and she needed some space to think and evaluate with him not around to cloud her brain. Despite herself, Grace felt a pang of regret that she couldn't do what she'd done previously (on the handful of dates she'd had in the last three years): call Jo and be forced to relate every lurid detail.


	8. A Family Weekend

**Author's Note:** In this chapter, Grace's family speak a bit of Hindi. 'Mami' means aunt. 'Betta' (pronounced bet-ha) is an endearment which means, roughly, 'my dear child'. Thanks again for your reviews!

* * *

The car pulled up in his driveway and Neil hurried to the door, yanking it open.

"Dad!" the familiar young voice of his boy echoed out of his mother's car window.

"Hey, laddie," Neil moved to his son's door, opening it. His heart panged as he watched how carefully Jake got out. Thanks to the medications he was on, as well as the illness itself, his son's joints ached, making him move like an old man. In Neil's mind, Dr Lawson's promise that it would cease couldn't be fulfilled quickly enough.

Jake threw his arms around his father, tucking his head into Dad's neck and breathing in his familiar smell. He'd gotten used to spending a lot of time with his dad while in hospital and speaking on the phone to him over the week hadn't seemed sufficient.

"Missed you, son," Dad's quiet voice sounded in his ear.

"Missed you more," Jake told him, drawing back to give and receive a peck on the cheek and one of Dad's prized almost-smiles that made his eyes go all warm and smiley.

"Hi, Pippa," Neil got back to his feet, greeting his ex-wife courteously with a peck on the cheek. "Coffee?

"Yes please, Neil," Philippa Pearson smiled at her former husband. Despite their best attempts to avoid each other, Neil had simply fallen asleep at Jake's bedside too many times during the course of the first phase for them to have been successful in ignoring each other. After a few awkward encounters, they'd each been surprised to find while it still hurt, the memory of a five-year old anguish paled into insignificance next to that of watching their son lie close to death on a hospital bed. They'd healed.

"Go on in, I'll bring the lad's bags ," he told her, unloading the small suitcase and backpack from the boot of the car. Jake reached out for his backpack, before helping his dad close the boot.

Jake immediately rushed upstairs to put his things away, giving Neil a moment alone with Philippa in the kitchen.

"I've been seeing someone," Neil said quietly, setting the kettle on.

"Oh," was all the response he got, so he turned around. Conflicting emotions spread across his ex-wife's face. "Sorry, it's just…"

"Weird," Neil finished with a nod.

"What's she like?" Pippa asked after a brief, awkward silence.

"She's, uh," the small goofy smile cut her deeply, even though they'd been officially over for five years (unofficially, far longer than that, if Pippa was honest with herself) and she'd been remarried for two. "She's something special. Puts up with me."

"What's her name?" Pippa pried.

"Grace," Neil told her. "We, uh…we work together. Have done for three years now."

Another stab at her heart, and she resolutely pushed down the memory of a much-younger, anguished Neil telling her he wanted them to have the warmth and intimacy he'd had with another woman.

"Oh," she said again, taking a moment to prepare herself for the answer that would hurt the most. "Are you planning…are you planning on introducing her to Jake?"

It was a huge relief when Neil shook his head, but his next words crushed the foolish hope that maybe it was a fling. He never had flings – it was all or nothing for him.

"Not yet," he said. "I want Jake settle in a bit first."

"So this doesn't change anything for you?" Philippa asked, thinking to the custody agreement they'd hashed out on the phone over the last few weeks. It had hurt, but it was essentially a reversal of the previous agreement: Jake would live with Neil in England after the consolidation therapy concluded and she returned to Spain. She'd get him for holidays, and have access any time she chose to come up for the weekend. The trickiest stage was managing the transition, but they'd eventually agreed to above all be flexible with weekdays – with Neil working, he couldn't very well take custody of Jake who needed someone at home. Still, Neil had been eager to look after him on weekends, a condition she readily agreed to as she needed a break. But when this had been discussed, Neil had made no mention of Grace.

"Of course not," he said quickly and firmly. "He's the most important person in my life, just as he's the most important in yours. Grace knows about him, she's okay with him, and if it gets to a case where Jake's not okay with her or she's not okay with him, he comes first."

The strained conversation was interrupted by the slow thump of their son's footsteps as he entered the kitchen, settling himself on one of the stools and demanding a hot chocolate.

* * *

"Mami!" Anjali beamed as she opened the door. "Mum, it's mami!"

"Let her in, Anji," her sister yelled from somewhere in the back of the house.

"Hi, Anji," Grace said, giving her niece a warm hug. "How are you? How's school?"

"Good and lame," was her response as Anji stood back, letting her aunt through the door. "Mum's in the kitchen with Ravi. Priya went out with some friends."

Grace shut the door behind her and made straight for the kitchen. Her sister stood there, finishing up breakfast for her nephew. Ravi was six, and judging by the mess on his face, he'd had a big breakfast of a great many things covered liberally in tomato sauce.

"Hi Anita," Grace said. "Hey Ravi!"

"Mami," Ravi grinned at her, moving towards her to hug her but a sharp word from his mother stopped him.

"Hai," she chided. "You're covered in tomato sauce! Wash before giving her a hug."

Ravi sheepishly ran to the bathroom, and Anita threw her hands in the air.

"My mad brood aside," she said with a laugh, hugging her sister. "How are you, Gracie? That boss of yours still giving you a rough time?"

Grace hesitated. This was going to be a _long_ conversation.

"It's complicated," she said, drawing back from the embrace.

"Oh god, you haven't slept with him, have you?" Anita shrieked with a mixture of horror at the implications and utter glee at the potential for drama in her older, responsible and usually steady sister's life.

"Anita!" Grace hissed, blushing. "No I haven't."

Anita eyed her sister sharply.

"Why do I have a feeling there's a 'yet' at the end of that sentence?" she sighed, moving to the kettle and brewing tea. "No, no, this will be a long conversation. We'll have it in the garden."

_Away from the kids_, Grace acknowledged as Ravi ran back into the kitchen, wrapping himself around her legs.

"Hello, betta," Grace greeted him warmly. "How are you?"

"Good!" Ravi said. "My teacher's put me up a reading grade this week!"

"Well done!" Grace said to this proud announcement.

"Ravi, Mami and I are going to talk now in the garden. Go and put your plate away, then you can play," Anita told him. Ravi nodded.

"Okay," he said, running back out of the kitchen.

"Ravi!" her sister raised her eyes heavenward. "Plate, ha?"

Ravi sheepishly turned back, putting his plate in the sink, before rushing out again. Grace repressed laughter, accepting the cup of tea from her sister and following her out to the garden.

"All right, Gracie," her sister said after a moment. "Tell Aunty Annie everything!"

"He asked me out," Grace said, tracing the pattern on her teacup.

"And you said yes," Anita surmised correctly. "After weeks of moaning to me about what an ass he's been to you and you say yes?"

"His son had, has, leukaemia," Grace told her, and her sister's critical glare changed abruptly. "Jake went into remission on Monday…Neil told us all on Tuesday and apologised. Then he asked me on a date."

"Dating your boss," Anita said quietly. "That's…Anushri, that's dangerous territory."

The use of her 'Indian name' cut, as it was intended to, reminding Grace that while their Father was somewhat flexible, at heart he was a traditional man.

"I know," Grace said, pushing down a stab of anger. Anita was simply being a concerned sister and couldn't know how much she'd agonised about asking Neil out. "We're taking it slowly. It took him till Thursday to kiss me. I just…I can't talk about it with anyone from work, obviously."

Anita nodded approvingly, her sisterly concern mollified for the moment. Her mind turned to the gossipy angles.

"Well, then, tell me about him," she urged. When Grace hesitated, she rolled her eyes. "Come on, you're absolutely _dying_ to, and with three kids, I need to live vicariously!" Grace laughed, before settling back more comfortably and doing what she had indeed been wanting to do for a while: gush stupidly about Neil Manson.

* * *

"What were you and Mum talking about?" Jake's question broke the companionable silence. The three of them had had coffee, in Jake's case, hot chocolate, and discussed the new living arrangements before Pippa had left to catch her flight to Spain. Jake was now seated on the kitchen counter swinging his legs into the cabinet as Neil prepared some cheese and tomato sandwiches to be toasted for lunch. "Before I came into the kitchen."

Despite the inconvenience and embarrassment it often brought, Neil felt a surge of pride in his son's perceptiveness. He remained quiet for a moment, trying to think of the best way to introduce the topic, having not anticipated his son would bring up Grace before he'd had a chance to tell him.

"After we got the news on Monday," he smiled at his son, who returned it broadly. The news of Jake's remission was still treasured and somewhat surreal. "I did something that I had been too scared to do before you got sick. While you were sick just wasn't the right time…" he paused again, trying to say it in a way that would make sense.

"What did you do, Dad?" his son's impatient voice interrupted him.

"I asked a lady I like a lot out on a date," Neil answered, deciding simple and honest was the best way to go as he regarded his son's face closely, eager for his reaction.


	9. On Children and Chemo

**Author's Note: **Thanks again for the reviews :)

* * *

Jake's feet stopped in their assault on his kitchen cabinets abruptly, and he tilted his head to one side as surprise and a hint of disappointment were quickly masked by curiosity and wariness.

"Does she know about me and … me being sick?" Jake asked nervously.

"Of course," Neil was relieved to be able to answer that so categorically. "We work together, so she knows all about you. And I've told her about the leukaemia so she knows about that too."

"Who will look after me when you see her?" Jake asked guardedly

"I'm only going to see her when you are with Mum. But even if you're with Mum, and for any reason you want to see me, you just give me a call like you did before. Nothing changes for us," Neil promised. "When it's you and me, I might talk to her on the phone after you go to sleep. But I'd like you to meet her eventually, when the time's right."

"What's she like?" came the next question, and Neil breathed an inward sigh of relief to see that much of the wariness had faded away, leaving only his son's intent curiosity. It was the best response he'd hoped for: he knew Jake would still be disappointed to know his Dad was dating. While Jake had long ago given up on trying to get his parents back together (after a painful three months Neil had spent on sabbatical in Spain which had ended in heart-break for the boy), Neil knew it was a another nail in the coffin of the dream all children of divorced marriages held. "And what's her name?"

"Her name's Grace. She's really smart," Neil said, listing the first thing he'd noticed about Grace Dasari. "And really kind, although she doesn't always show it immediately."

"Kind of like you and mum and Liam, then," Jake noted. "What does she look like? Is she pretty?"

"Very," Neil replied. "And, well, she's probably in one of the photos of the team in the lounge."

"Really?" Jake's curiosity got the better of him, and he hopped gingerly down from the counter. "Do you know which one?"

"I think she's in one of the ones on the right end," Neil said, lifting the sandwich toaster to see that the sandwiches had been browned to his satisfaction. Lifting them out onto two plates, he put them on the bench and waited for his son's return.

Jake came back in, handing the photograph of the 2009 Christmas party he'd removed from the bookshelf to his Dad.

"You should tell me who the rest of them are too, Dad," Jake told him. "I want to know what they all look like."

"Okay, well, you know Jack Meadows, my boss," Neil started with the familiar face, pointing to Jack who had been sitting on the far left of the bar, cradling a beer in one hand and holding onto a billiards cue with another. Mickey was next to him, leaning on Stevie for support as they both laughed at something the Super had said. Running through Terry, Smithy and a costumed Nate (it had been some sort of dare from Leon, he'd gathered, Nate had to come dressed as an elf) he arrived at himself, tucked on the right hand side of the bar between Grace and Jo.

"That's her," Neil pointed. Jake took the picture back from him, examining it closely.

"She has a nice smile," he concluded critically and a little dubiously.

Neil grinned, feeling his heart lighten as he slid a plate and sandwich in Jake's direction, preparing himself for the forthcoming barrage of questions.

* * *

"So how did the weekend with Jake go?" Grace asked as they sat back in the small Thai restaurant after ordering.

"Good," Neil replied. "He got a bit nervous about returning to St Hugh's towards the end. But we sorted out the custody arrangements. If all goes well, he'll be ready to start school in September, and I'll have full custody of him from mid-late August. Until then we're going to be flexible on week-day arrangements, and I'll have him all to myself on the weekends."

Grace reached easily for his hand. "Congratulations," she said sincerely, pinning his gaze with hers.

Neil opened his mouth, but was unable to find the words. Instead, he flipped his hand over, clasping hers gently as he lifted it to his lips. She _got_ that he was still hurting, and would hurt for a while, and even though they were still so painfully new she was content to be his second priority.

He _had_ enough priorities to have work come in at a distant third.

In that moment, he could feel himself falling a little more in love with her, and he staunchly squashed the instinctive panic that arose at that thought.

Grace forced herself to breathe as he removed his lips from her hand, allowing their joined hands fall back to the table, and reached with his spare hand for her other hand.

"What did you do this weekend?" Neil asked lightly, surprising himself with his ability to move on from the momentous realisation of a few moments ago.

"Well, I worked on Sunday," Grace told him. He frowned a little, recalling how he'd meant to ask why that was after reading the weekend reports.

"Didn't you work last Sunday too?" he asked.

"Banksy's nephew's christening," she explained.

"Well, given there was no real paperwork from the day I'll take it as a quiet day?" Neil said lightly.

"Thank goodness," Grace said with a smile. "Caught up on my paperwork for you, though, boss."

Neil squeezed her hands, eyes twinkling. "Yeah, thanks for that," he said sarcastically. "All landed on my desk now."

"That was the plan," Grace told him blithely. "And on Saturday I visited my sister."

"Anita?" Neil frowned, hoping he got it right, and was reassured by her nod and smile. "How was that?"

"It was good," Grace hesitated. "I told her about…us."

_Us_. It sent an entirely good chill down Neil's spine that that word now applied to himself and Grace, and he squeezed her hands supportively.

"Well, she's been my outlet for the past few weeks," Grace continued candidly. Neil's thumbs stilled in their gentle, unconscious movements across the back of her hands.

"Ah," he said. "So she didn't have the highest opinion of me." Grace was gratified that he didn't remove his hands from hers.

"Don't worry, I think I changed it," Grace told him shyly.

"That's good," Neil said, the people he'd told weighing on the back of his mind. "I told Pippa and Jake."

It was Grace's turn to freeze.

"How'd they take it?" she asked nervously.

"Pippa was indifferent," Neil said with a reassuring smile. "And after a hunt through my photographs of the Sun Hill officers, Jake tracked you down and came to the opinion that you've got a nice smile."

"Yeah?" Grace asked shyly, blush rising in her cheeks. Neil's eyes were soft as he nodded.

The moment was interrupted by the arrival of their food, and they reluctantly released each other's hands.

* * *

Neil was conspicuously quiet on the drive back to hers and the walk to her apartment.

"So Jake's not the only one worried about tomorrow," Grace prompted softly, squeezing his hand before dropping it to pull out her keys and unlock her door. "You okay?"

"Sorry," he sighed, nodding. Grace turned around, taking his hands in hers again.

"You okay?" she asked gently.

"Yeah, yeah," he said. "There's no need to be worried, it's all routine."

"It's okay to be worried, Neil," Grace told him. "Just because it's routine doesn't mean it's not worth worrying about, just so long as you don't let the worry dominate."

Neil smiled at her. "You're right," he acknowledged. "As always. Anyway, I'm going to try and have an early night, so, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night," Grace said. He leant in and kissed her gently good night, lightly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

* * *

Neil was tense the next day at work, but Grace was relieved to see it wasn't manifesting itself in a vitriolic attack at anyone. Instead, he was quiet and solemn (even for him) and he left as soon as the clock ticked over.

"The DI all right?" Stevie asked Banksy with a frown. "He's barely spoken all day, even when conducting the briefings!"

"The next part of Jake's treatment's started," Smithy said as he passed by, overhearing the question and seeing Banksy shrug.

"Thought the kid was in remission," Terry frowned.

Smithy shrugged. "He is…but it's more complicated than that and he didn't want to talk about it. I was surprised to get that much out of him."

Glad someone had stuck up for him – for her to do so would raise too many questions about their relationship she didn't want to address – Grace quietly packed up and went home, hoping he'd call her to talk.

He didn't.

* * *

The next morning she watched him walk in, ten minutes early, nodding to her briefly behind Banksy's back. CID was largely empty, but nevertheless she picked up a random file on her desk, and moved towards his office, oblivious to Banksy's speculative eyes on her as she closed the door. Neil turned around from where he'd been hanging his coat, moving to perch on his desk near her.

"Everything okay?" she asked him. He once again wore what Eddie had uncharitably termed his 'nobly-tortured' expression, tension apparent in every line of his body and in the bags under his eyes.

"It went as well as it could have," he said with a sigh.

"I know you'll want to go back and see him tonight," she said quietly as he nodded. "But come over afterward. We can have takeout, and you can talk, or watch rubbish TV or whatever."

Neil looked down. "I don't want to impose –"

"Neil," Grace glanced quickly out the glass of his office – _fishbowl, more like_ – before stepping closer and taking his hand. "It's okay for you to need someone else every now and then."

He looked back up at her with that vulnerable look of his that had once made her want to slap him for being such a closed-up idiot and now made her want to hug him and kiss the stress away. She settled for squeezing his hand.

"Okay," he nodded. A knock on the door interrupted them, and Grace hastily dropped his hand, stepping back to a respectful distance before turning to open the door for Stevie.

"Cheers, guv," she threw over her shoulder, smiling to her DS in acknowledgement as she strode past.

"Guv, I wanted to ask you about that Fletcher case…" Stevie's voice floated out into CID.

* * *

"He went to bed early tonight," Neil Manson said by way of greeting as he stood at her door at 8pm, holding a wrapped paper packet. The appetising smell of fish and chips wafted from it as she stood back to let him in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips as he passed.

Settling down in her lounge to eat, Grace turned the volume down on the show she'd been watching, turning instead to the guy sprawled on the other side of the couch. While still tired, he seemed less stressed.

"You look better than this morning, Jake's doing okay then?" she surmised, beginning to cut her fish into neat, even pieces.

"Yeah," Neil smiled lazily. "Thank you for what you said this morning."

"It's what I'm here for," Grace told him sincerely.


	10. A Test is Set

**Author's Notes:** Thank you for all your reviews - they're greatly appreciated! An extra special thanks to feebee17 for her advice on this chapter.

* * *

Jake's eyes blinked against the harsh fluorescent of the hospital lights. He felt the familiar heavy tiredness overtake him, anchoring him to the bed, unable to move. His throat was dry and sore again, and he glared fiercely at the clipboard he saw balancing on the end of his bedposts, pretending it was Dr Lawson. It was her stupid medicines that made his mouth have all these disgusting infections that made eating hurt.

Still, at least he wasn't vomiting his guts out right now.

His eyes grew accustomed to the light. Jake knew he wouldn't be able to sleep again for _ages_, so he looked around his hospital room. The familiar IV drip was there, and all the lines and tubes he didn't know the uses of (and the really embarrassing one he had to pee into). Jake would've sighed, but it would just have added to the exhaustion he already felt. It must nearly be time for the nurse to give him his painkillers, because he hurt all over pretty bad. He'd probably be able to sleep again when they gave him the morphine.

Glancing to the side he saw that Mum wasn't there, but that wasn't a surprise because it was night-time. But neither was Dad – and that was unusual: Dad hadn't told him he wouldn't be there that night and Dad always told him if he couldn't stay the whole night. It was so much nicer on the nights Dad was there, because he'd always wake up if Jake needed him and he'd read in his low quiet voice until Jake drifted off again.

But Dad had been looking really tired and sad recently. Jake felt bad: it was his fault after all that Dad was sleeping in uncomfortable hospital chairs, and he totally understood he needed to go home and sleep there sometimes. Anyway, his Dad was the best on the ward – not even Jamie Ellis' Dad stayed every night (and Jamie Ellis was always surrounded by family, and presents and people. Jake was sure if that much was happening around him he'd scream and bite someone, but Jamie sure enjoyed the attention. The nurses didn't seem to like him too much – Jake had noticed that they always gave him the dodgy looking meals).

Jake frowned as he suddenly realised that there was a window through the foot of his bed, and he could see clearly through it. He didn't remember that being there before, but no way was he going to complain! It was like watching TV without sound, he thought happily. He couldn't watch his own TV because he'd wake the other children and he couldn't muster the energy to reach for the remote.

Jake frowned as he realised he could see his dad through the window. He was dressed for work, and wearing the vest that made him look like a real policeman. Although it was pretty damn cool his Dad got to wear non-uniform clothes, like an undercover spy, Jake sometimes wished he'd wear his uniform and show Jamie Ellis that even if your dad bought you an iPhone, it didn't mean he was well cool like _his_ dad. He was ordering a bunch of policemen to move into what looked like a big warehouse or something. Pride filled him as he watched DI Manson, _his_ dad, arrest a bunch of bad guys (and Jake knew they were really dreadful because they had tattoos, cigarettes and biker jackets). A movement in the corner of the window, behind his dad, caught his eye and Jake focused his attention there.

Horror welled up in his throat as he realised that the man had a gun and it was pointing straight at his dad. Jake tried to shout, to warn him, but there was an oxygen mask back over his mouth and he still couldn't move to get up. Nobody seemed to have noticed, and Dad was too busy arresting some guy to see. Looking around desperately, he tried to reach the call button to get one of the nurses, but the tiredness weighed him down, making it impossible for Jake to move even an inch, no matter how hard he concentrated. Finally, he managed to move his hand a little, only to be flooded with an unbearable pain, like what had happened when the doctor had done the thing to his back and hadn't been able to get the spinal fluid. He soon realised that there was blood in the oxygen mask – he'd bitten his lip almost all the way through.

A loud bang echoed through his room, and his dad fell to the floor slowly, clutching at his chest in pain. Blood was everywhere, all over the people who bent down to try to help, but just as quickly stood, shaking their heads. Jake struggled to scream, but it seemed the air was weighing his chest down ad he just couldn't get a deep enough breath. The window vanished, leaving a green wall in its place, but the image of his dad lying in a pool of blood was seared vividly onto Jake's mind.

Dr Lawson came in immediately with her brisk walk, looking sad.

"I'm really sorry, Jake, but your dad died," she said in her kind but no-nonsense manner, ticking something in his chart. "Your mum will come to see you when she can, but she lives in Spain now and the volcano's erupted again. She won't be able to come and see you for at least a hundred years because of all the ash."

Dr Lawson walked away, and Jake finally summoned enough strength to scream. Dr Lawson didn't even pause, and the nurses on the ward walked right past him, gossiping. The other kids slept soundly, and nobody could see him, screaming and alone…

"Jake, Jake!" Mum's voice was panicked, and Jake opened his eyes to find his room at Mum's, terror still filling him.

"I want Dad, where's Dad?" he demanded, forcing himself not to cry. _Don't be stupid, Jake Alexander, _he told himself fiercely, but it did no good as he felt tears running down his face. He wiped them off furiously: he had to be strong for Dad and Mum.

"He left to go home, Jakey, remember?"

And he did remember. When Mum was out of the room, Jake had leaned over with a conspiratorial grin and asked Dad if he was going to see Grace. Dad had actually blushed! And he'd said yes, with a bit of one of those silly grins on his face. Jake was sure that a broken heart (which he'd never had but which everyone in the world seemed to moan about) could not approach the pain he felt now, recalling vividly the blood all over his Dad.

"I want Dad," Jake repeated through tears. He could _move_, he remembered, he wasn't stuck in hospital, so he made a lunge for his phone. If Jake had looked at his mother, he would have seen the hurt expression on her face, but he was too busy working the keypad with trembling fingers.

* * *

"A nerd, hey," Neil's voice rumbled with amusement as he teased her mouth open for a kiss. Their tongues tangled together again in a dance that was becoming familiar but no less breathtaking. Breaking away, Grace playfully pushed at his chest, but as she was the one lying on top, he didn't move very far.

"What were you in high school, then?" she asked, trailing a hand down his chest, revealed by his partially unbuttoned shirt. She couldn't resist a smirk as she heard his breath hitch. Disentangling her other hand from his hair, she rolled slightly towards the back of the couch to set to work on the other buttons.

"Guess," he teased huskily, as one of his hands slipped further under her top, adventurously reaching the back of her bra and lightly caressing the skin just beneath the clasp. His other hand had, quite some time ago, very happily set up residence on the curve of her backside.

"Class clown?" Grace joked, pressing a kiss to his Adam's apple. Neil laughed again, about to respond, when they were interrupted by a mobile ringtone Grace didn't recognise as belonging to either of them.

The mood changed abruptly as Neil sat up, taking Grace with him, as he fumbled for his phone. Mouthing an apology, he hastily flipped it open.

"Jake, what's up?" somehow he kept his voice calm. "Jakey, sweetheart, shh, shh it's okay. What is it?"

Grace untangled her legs from his, sliding a more respectful distance away as Neil put his head in his hands. Even from that distance, she could hear loud, panicked babbling on the other end of the line.

"I'm coming over, okay," Neil said decisively. "I'll be there as soon as I can. Okay? I love you."

Snapping the phone shut he looked at her apologetically, standing quickly.

"I promised him," he said, panic bubbling behind his calm mask. Grace nodded, following him to the door.

"You know where I am," she said, cupping his face in her hands and kissing him quickly on the lips. He nodded gratefully, and then strode away. Grace shut the door, moving back to the lounge.

His jacket and tie lay crumpled on the floor next to the arm of the couch. He'd taken them off soon after dinner, and she supposed they must have gotten knocked off the couch at some point during their…talk. Picking them up, she laid them over the top of one of the armchairs before flopping back on the couch.

She was someone who tended to try to rationalise everything, and the last week or so with Neil had been great because she hadn't felt like she had to – all she knew was that he liked her, she liked him, there was a mutual attraction, and she had fun and felt happy with him. The realities of Neil's obligations were starting to become apparent, and Grace felt it was time to start considering them. She didn't hold Jake against him. If Neil hadn't taken his obligations to Jake seriously, she wouldn't have looked twice at him. But she was starting to wonder if this was the right time for him to start a relationship – Jake obviously needed his dad, and Neil's attention was understandably distracted. Maybe she should take a step back and let Neil get used to having his son around full-time before they took what they had any further?

* * *

The beep of her phone distracted Grace from the bright flickering of her TV screen. She snatched it up immediately – Neil had been gone for over two hours.

_You awake?_ It read. Beginning to text a response, she decided partway through just to call him instead.

"I guess that's a yes," his voice sounded small and tired.

"Everything okay?" Grace asked in concern. "Where are you?"

"Outside." Grace hung up on him, dropping her phone carelessly on the coffee table and hurrying straight to the door and yanking it open.


	11. A Test is Passed

**Author's Note: **Thanks, as always, for the reviews. I'm glad you're continuing to enjoy the story!

* * *

A very woebegone Neil stood at her door, frowning at his phone which he replaced in his pocket upon seeing the door open. He looked exactly like he had after she'd arrested Jane Wallace: his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched and exuding vulnerability, exhaustion and sadness. Grace had cursed him then, when he'd refused her offer of help. She couldn't step back from him, not now. Neil had come to her: if she turned him away, he'd never come back.

"Hey," she said very softly. "Tea?" At his wordless, barely perceptible nod, Grace reached for his arm and tugged him inside. Shutting the door behind them, she led him to the kitchen, putting the kettle on and preparing their mugs before turning around. He was still framed in her kitchen doorway. "Neil, what happened?"

"Jake," Neil's voice was hoarse with unshed tears. He cleared his throat. "Jake had a nightmare. I got there and he was just petrified. He only cried during the lumbar punctures because they hurt him really badly and-" he choked with emotion, unable to continue. Grace was _looking_ at him with her warm understanding, and a sob wrested free from his chest. Instantly, she stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him, one hand going to the back of his head to guide it to her shoulder as he broke down into tears. From the way he shuddered as he cried, Grace was willing to wager everything she owned that this was the first time he'd let himself sob: so she just stroked his hair, carried his weight, and murmured soothingly in his ear as he ended up in a blubbering mess.

Finally his sobs drew more and more infrequent and he stopped. Grace said nothing, continuing to stroke his hair and hold him tightly. Slowly she felt him move against her neck, pressing a kiss there. She froze as his lips slid up her neck, engaging hers.

They'd kept their other kisses relatively light: exploring, affectionate and flirty. Tonight had been the first time they'd [tentatively] got heavy, but it had only been on her couch and they'd been interrupted before they could go further.

This was different. Neil kissed her desperately, hungrily and she could taste the salt from his tears as he pulled her closer, hands roaming freely across her body. She tried to kiss him back gently, to bring him back from wherever he was in his head, but he wouldn't respond.

All he knew was he needed her, and he was desperate to get closer, to drown himself and the memory of his son's screams in her scent and her taste and her feel. It wasn't pretty, and it wasn't romantic, he vaguely recognised through the mixed emotions of despair and need.

And it wasn't fair.

It was this thought that had him stiffening, and he pulled back abruptly, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he muttered, unable to look at her as he took a step back. "I shouldn't have come."

Now-familiar hands caught his as he took another step from her, halting his progress.

"Neil, look at me," she demanded. Her calm brown eyes steadied him a little as he looked up, shame filling him.

"I…I don't want to use you like this," he said, guilt oozing from every pore. "That's not…I don't want this to be about that."

"A hug and a cup of tea isn't using me," Grace said gently, deliberately ignoring his meaning. Wrapping her arms back around him, she was relieved when he didn't resist these tears. This time when he drew back, Grace kissed him lightly on the cheek, before drawing back and pouring tea.

"How very British of us," Neil laughed wryly and croakily. Grace turned around and smiled at his tear-stained face.

"Why don't you go and wash up?" she suggested. "Bathroom's on the right down the hall.'

* * *

As Neil patted his face with a towel, he considered again with some amazement how Grace knew him he'd need a minute to get his headspace straightened out. He felt a lot better, and it surprised him. Neil knew he hadn't coped well (at all) with Jake's illness, but there hadn't seemed to be a lot he could do – every moment not spent with Jake was spent at work, or sleeping a fitful few hours between work and Jake. Coming back into the kitchen, he watched as Grace pulled out a packet of chocolate biscuits from the pantry. She looked at him questioningly, and he walked up and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug.

"Thank you," he said sincerely, kissing her cheek before releasing her.

"Bring those into the lounge," she said in response, gesturing to the steaming cups of tea. He obediently picked them up, taking them carefully into the lounge and placing them on her pristine coffee table. They settled themselves down on the couch, Grace immediately taking his hands in hers.

"It might be a cliche, but it's correct," she said gently. "Talking helps."

"I'm sorry," Neil said after a beat. "This is utterly unfair to you. You didn't sign up to be my therapist while my son goes through chemotherapy."

"Neil, I signed up to see where this could go," Grace said. "But before going out with you, even though you're my boss, I always thought we were friends. Right?"

Her eyes pinned his and he nodded. "Of course," he said, squeezing her hands.

"And friends are there for each other," Grace assured him. She hesitated before shyly adding, "and friends that are dating each other because they feel something more...well, they're there for each other too."

Neil felt his heart flutter at her words and he looked back up from their joined hands. He leant in and gently kissed her, with actions trying to convey what he felt - a mixture of gratefulness, relief, shyness, affection and an emotion he refused to name. As he drew back from the kiss, Grace released a hand to touch his cheek.

"Okay? Talk to me," she coaxed.

"When we found out he was in remission, even though he still had to have chemo, I thought it'd get easier," Neil admitted with a sigh. "It took me the better part of an hour just to get him to stop crying and he never cries. One of the side effects of one of the medications he's on is nightmares, and the alternatives made him really nauseous so he couldn't sleep...He's just scared of dying. One in five kids relapse - I can't tell him he won't die! He still might."

As he faltered, Grace squeezed his hands gently, encouraging him gently to continue at his own pace.

* * *

Grace woke up, surrounded by the increasingly familiar scent of Neil Manson. She forced her eyes open to see Neil plastered to the back of her couch, wincing as she saw the angle of his neck. They must have fallen asleep at some point in the night she concluded unnecessarily. Glancing up to the clock, she cursed inwardly to see the time.

Looking back to Neil, she lightly traced his face. He looked worried, still, but much of the stress had faded away in sleep as he breathed slowly in and out. Deciding to let him sleep a little longer, she carefully extricated herself from his arms and untangled their legs, moving towards the bathroom.

The hot spray of her shower was refreshing, and she tilted her head back as she considered what he'd said the night before. It had become clear that her initial impression had been right: the nightmare had only been the thing to set Neil off – the issue was greater than that one event. After he'd talked himself hoarse, they'd snuggled up together to watch some movie on one of the channels, predictably falling asleep on the couch. Not the smartest place, she realised in hindsight, but she hadn't wanted him to drive home in his emotional state, putting him in the spare room would've been awkward, and...well, the first time they made love she wanted it to be about them, not about his son. A plan began to form in her mind. She switched off the water and quickly got dressed, heading out to wake him.

The smell of frying eggs filled her apartment, and she smiled as she noticed the empty couch. Moving into the kitchen, she saw Neil slide an omelette from a frying pan to a plate. Another omelette stood ready on a second plate. Moving up behind him, she slid a hand down his back, leaning up to kiss him gently.

"Hi, stranger," she said warmly.

"Hope you don't mind," Neil said somewhat sheepishly. "I thought you might like a cooked breakfast. You do eat omelettes, right?"

"Who doesn't?" Grace asked lightly, claiming a plate and sitting at the kitchen table where a steaming cup of coffee sat ready for her. "God, I'm glad you can cook! I usually end up ordering take-out."

Neil smirked. "I'm afraid I'm not that much of a cook," he said lightly. "A few basic meals, that's all."

Grace laughed. "Well, this is delicious anyway," she said appreciatively. They ate in silence for a few moments before Grace broached the idea she'd had in the shower.

"I think you should call Philippa, ask her if you can take Jake for her today. Take the day off, spend it with your son."

Neil looked across in surprise.

"Yeah?" he asked, obviously mulling the idea over in his head.

"I think it'd be good for both of you: reassure him that everything's going to be okay, and reassure yourself. If you go to work, you'll just get more and more stressed," Grace argued rationally.

Neil nodded slowly, pulling his phone out. Grace listened to his half of the conversation, and didn't need his grin of acknowledgement when he hung up to know that Philippa had agreed.

* * *

"DC Dasari," Grace answered her desk phone, tucking it into her neck as she continued to scroll through the email correspondence of their suspect.

"Hey, you free?" his voice travelled down the line.

"Hey," her change in tone had Mickey and Stevie look up in interest. "Yeah, just doing grunt work."

"Good. Not that you're doing grunt work, but that you're free," he explained quickly.

"You sound better," Grace observed. He did – happy and playful and relaxed.

"This was a really good idea, it's been a good morning," she could practically hear him smiling. "Jake's just napping at the moment in the park, so I thought I'd call and say thank you, again, and ask if I can take you out tonight to continue last night's interrupted date…"

"Where to?" Grace asked. "And don't you dare quote song lyrics to me."

He laughed.

"Okay, I'll just quote a cliché then: that's for me to know and you to find out. It's not hugely formal, but it's a bit dressy."

"Okay," she said, intrigued and inwardly rolling her eyes at his inability to give her a concrete idea of the dress-code. 'A bit dressy', and 'not hugely formal' were not the clearest directions. "I finish work at 5.30 today, so, half six?"

"I'll be there," he promised.

"With bells on?" the teasing remark slipped out.

"What am I, bloody Rudolph?" Neil grumbled good-naturedly.

Grace couldn't repress a low laugh.

"Hm, okay," she said. "I'm really glad it went well this morning."

"Have you to thank for that," he said warmly. "Anyway, I'll see you tonight."

"See you. Have a good afternoon," she said, reluctant to hang up but knowing if the conversation continued for too long she'd be interrogated by her nosy colleagues.

"You too," Neil said teasingly. There was a moment of silence as each waited for the other to hang up.

"Oh, god, I'm not playing this game," Grace said resolutely, hanging up as Neil's low chuckle sounded in her ear sending a thrill down her spine.

Immediately, Mickey Webb and Stevie Moss pounced.

"Who was tha-at?" Stevie drawled teasingly. Grace quirked an eyebrow disinterestedly, fighting to keep her expression blank.

"Friend of mine," she said nonchalantly.

"Oo-oo, a frie-end, eh?" Mickey asked suggestively.

"Yes, Mickey," she said honestly with a touch of exasperation. Although, she suspected if their kisses were anything to go by, the sex would be … mind-blowing … to say the least. She redoubled her focus on the screen in front of her. "We're just old friends having a drink."

"Ri-ight," Stevie and Mickey exchanged grins, and Grace blushed despite herself.

"Seriously, Mickey," she began, but her attention was caught by one of the sentences on the email she was currently viewing. "Sarge, look at this." On Grace's business-like tone, Stevie straightened abruptly, teasing forgotten.


	12. Moving Forward

"Hey," Neil said with a slow smile as she opened the door. Less-than-clear directions and a quick phone call to her sister had resulted in Grace choosing her knee-high light green dress. It was casual enough to not make her appear over-dressed in most situations, and smart enough to pass for a cocktail dress.

From the way Neil was looking at her, she suspected that particular qualification of the dress was being ignored in favour of the way it highlighted her legs and lean body. She couldn't resist a smug smile, as she in turn admired his formal wear: while she saw him in business suits every day, it couldn't be denied that he looked good in them, and the lack of a tie just added a touch of casualness she found inexplicably appealing.

"At the risk of being overly sentimental and ruining my image, I figured you were about due for some nice flowers," Neil said with his customary dry humour and a touch of nervousness as he offered her a bouquet of white orchids and pink roses.

"Sentimentality is always welcomed if it comes with such beautiful flowers," she assured him with a shy smile as she accepted the flowers. She ducked inside to put them away, hurrying out a few moments later.

"So, where are we going?" she asked, locking her door and immediately taking Neil's offered hand, lacing their fingers together.

"Wait and see. Are you always so impatient?" Neil said teasingly, squeezing her hand and kissing her lightly as they set off to his car.

"Neil," she whined, to his great amusement. He refused steadfastly in the car journey to give her even an inkling of what they were doing, apart from the obtuse hint that it was more than just dinner.

To say Grace was surprised when Neil pulled into the Adelphi Theatre where Andrew Lloyd Webber's most recent musical was playing would be an understatement.

"Figured now was as good a time as any to see it," he said softly, looking nervously at her as he pulled on the handbrake.

"Thank you," was all Grace to think of to say, as she leaned over and kissed him deeply. Drawing back (and wiping traces of lipstick from his lips) she smiled hugely at him. Neil's nervousness vanished, and he returned her grin broadly.

"Shall we?" he asked rhetorically, leading her into the theatre.

* * *

The lights came on to illuminate the theatre, and Grace turned to her companion. With his head resting back against the chair and his dark eyes regarding her intently, Neil looked both more relaxed and sexier than she could recall. He quirked his eyebrows in silent question.

"It was brilliant," she said warmly. "I normally hate surprises, but this was lovely, thank you."

"Consider it the beginning of a favour returned," he said in reply. Standing, he pulled her to her feet. "Come on, let's get something to eat. I'm starving."

She allowed him to pull her outside, heading to nearby restaurant with a certainty that demonstrated his familiarity with the area. It was a small, casual café whose business was obviously driven by the theatre.

It was nice to be able to tell someone about your day from the small frustrations and triumphs to the wider context. It was even nicer when your audience knew exactly who you were speaking about, and immediately contextualised the people and events in your day. Grace also appreciated the way in which Neil spoke to her about Jake: he was open and candid about what they'd done, throwing in amusing anecdotes about Jake from not only that weekend, but from previous years before his illness. She realised that he was beginning the process of integrating her into his son's life, a thought that evoked mixed feelings of nervousness and anticipation for a potential future.

Unlocking the car doors as they approached, Neil kept a hold of Grace's hand, pausing at the car door.

"So, good surprise?" he asked. Grace smiled warmly at the adorable (although that was an adjective she knew he'd never embrace) man who'd brought her flowers, taken her to a musical she'd _desperately _wanted to see, treated her to dinner and listened to her day. She touched his cheek and he automatically ducked his head.

"Best surprise," she assured him, allowing her hand to drift into his hair to pull him down for a kiss.

Grace still took his breath away every time she stepped forward and did that, Neil couldn't help but think in the split second it took her to close the distance between their lips. He groaned as she nipped his bottom lip, slipping her tongue into his mouth. Electricity flowed between them as he manoeuvred around so that she was pressed up against the side of the car. Kiss deepening, she moaned into his mouth while twining a leg around his calf to pull him closer. Neil's hands seemed everywhere at once: one minute tangled in her hair, the next, sliding up the bottom of her leg. His interest in her becoming all too readily apparent with the intimate way they were pressed against each other, Grace pulled back reluctantly, pressing kisses across his face.

"Your place is closer," she panted into his ear as she forced herself to withdraw the hand that had somehow found its way to caressing the smooth planes of his back.

* * *

They barely made it up his driveway and into the house. The instant the door had slammed shut, Grace reached up and pulled his lips down to hers hungrily as they both tried to get as close as possible to each other. Returning the kiss with equal fervour, Neil backed her towards the stairs, his jacket falling to the floor with a thump.

Reaching his bedroom, finally, Neil had to pause in his assault on her neck and ears and lips. Between them, most of his clothing was undone or lying on the path to his room so all he had to do was step out of his pants. He'd had less success getting Grace in a similar state of undress: while he'd gotten the zipper of her dress undone, there was a button above the zipper that had resisted the attempts of his fumbling hands to undo. He'd appreciated her foresight in getting her shoes unstrapped in the car, though; getting the small buckles unfastened would have been beyond him. Finally getting it unfastened, Grace's dress slid to the floor and she stepped out of it before falling to the bed with him.

Their love-making was intense. For years they'd repressed their physical desire for each other, which now, given an outlet, flooded out. Their honest, mutual affection tempered their lust, and, determined not to rush; they both savoured the experience of exploring each other's bodies for the first time. When they were both finally sated, Neil rolled off her to lie on his back, pulling her towards him. Grace snuggled closer; pillowing her head on his shoulder as she lightly stroked his chest and felt his heart beginning to slow. It had been as mind-blowing as she'd predicted, she thought with a giddy smile as she struggled to gather her thoughts.

"That was fantastic," Neil's quiet, still-husky voice sounded directly in her ear.

"Mm," Grace practically purred her agreement, pressing a kiss to his chest and entangling her smooth legs with his hairy ones even more closely. Neil tightened his arms in response as they lay in silence, content to caress each other in the warm glow of the aftermath.

"You should take days off work more often," Grace broke the comfortable silence after a while, propping herself up enough to see his face.

"Well, if my days off are guaranteed to end like this," he said with a roguish smile. Grace rolled her eyes at him.

"I meant you work too hard, and it's nice to see you relaxed," she told him.

"Says the woman who's first in, last out most days," Neil countered.

"This from the man who leaves messages for his staff at 1am in the morning telling them about errors in their _paperwork_," Grace emphasised.

The slow grin that never failed to make Grace blush and feel dizzy made its reappearance as Neil kissed her bare shoulder.

"What can I say?" he mumbled mock-seriously pressing kisses up to her neck, paying particular attention to the junction of her neck and shoulder which he'd discovered, embarrassingly quickly, as one of Grace's weak spots. "I am very…_thorough_…"

Grace couldn't help but smirk at the ridiculousness of their pillow talk as she shifted on top of him.

"Hmm," she continued in the same vein, kissing him under his ear and eliciting a moan. "Think maybe it's time I conducted a performance review – after all, one demonstration…"

"Definitely insufficient," Neil gasped his agreement before his lips were rather enjoyably engaged elsewhere.

* * *

Grace smiled as Neil's smell surrounded her upon waking for the second day in a row, feeling his hand resting on the curve of her waist.

"Hey," his voice greeted her as she stirred, and she rolled over to find him propped up on one elbow, smug grin plastered to his face and his hair sticking up like he'd been mildly electrocuted.

"Hey," she smiled lazily back, leaning in to kiss him briefly. "How long have you been awake?"

"And watching you sleep like a creepy stalker?" he responded lightly. "Barely a couple of minutes- you woke up pretty much as soon as I shifted."

"I'm a really light sleeper," Grace admitted. "It's why, when we were kids, I always hated it when Anita and I had to share. Every time she moved, I'd wake up."

"Huh, I'm the opposite," Neil said, absently stroking her waist. "I don't usually need much, but once I do get to sleep I'm like a log."

Grace smiled, trailing her hands up his chest and into his hair. Her fixation with his hair was probably a little weird, she acknowledged, but his hair was just so _soft _and easy to spike and play with...And apparently he was _very _sensitive on his scalp and behind his ears, evidenced by the way he closed his eyes contentedly as she stroked his hair and scalp, almost purring at her ministrations.

"You pick up Jake this afternoon, right?" she asked. Neil nodded with a hint of disappointment.

"Won't be able to see you again till Monday," he said apologetically.

"Well, in that case," Grace smiled suggestively, edging closer. "How long do we have before we have to get out of bed? Reckon my boss could be persuaded to let me be a little late this morning?"

"Oh I like the way you think, Grace Dasari," Neil said gleefully as he tightened his grip on her waist, leaning in for a kiss.

**

* * *

**

**Author's Note:** This note is deliberately at the end because I wanted to dedicate this chapter to MissLala and Feebee - hopefully this has allayed some of your concerns of the side-effects of protracted abstinence! ;P (obviously, putting this dedication at the beginning would ruin the fun). Thanks again to everyone who reviewed - I appreciate each and every word of encouragement!


	13. Solace

**Author's Note: **Finally, we've reached _Solace_! This story ballooned beyond all expectations, I'm afraid! Thanks so much for all your reviews: they are, as always, hugely appreciated. Although I started posting with seven chapters written, I haven't been able to produce chapters as quickly as I posted them (thanks to an irritatingly persistent cold!) so chapters may start to come a little slower.

This chapter (and successive ones) will contain spoilers for the episodes that they concern. If you haven't seen them yet and do not want to be spoiled, please read no further. The first scene of this chapter contains dialogue taken directly from the episode, to which I've added some more detail about why they interact the way they do. I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

He wasn't in his office, the canteen, next to the coffee machine, and Grace knew he hadn't gone to the pub. Sure enough, he was in the incident room, playing back the phone call. She stepped into the room, making her way across to him.

Neil glanced over, pausing the tape. She waited for him to speak.

"Not one of our better days," he said finally. Grace nodded.

"Fancy taking the edge off it?" she asked.

"How?" his voice was tired.

"I don't know," Grace said, summoning the courage. A weekend had passed with little contact – he'd rung, once (with Jake acting up in the background) – and she'd spent a hugely uncomfortable Sunday afternoon at Jo's for one of CID's gatherings, certain someone would read the fact that she'd slept with their collective boss right from her face.

Neither of them had planned to sleep together on Thursday night - Neil had actually tried to apologise for the way they'd ended up before Grace had firmly assured him that they'd ended up that way mutually. To invite him over now would cement the relationship (with her _boss_) as a sexual one, a step further away from taking things slowly. However, the thought of each of them going to their respective homes to dwell (in Neil's case, brood) alone on the day's events felt wrong when they had managed to navigate the painful topic of Jake's leukaemia together.

"My place? I'll cook us a truly rubbish meal and open a cheap bottle of wine."

Much to her relief, Neil chuckled dryly, spinning in his chair to face her.

"Now there's an offer I can't possibly refuse," he replied honestly. His small grin had Grace blushing and ducking her head. "One condition though."

"What, you cook?" Grace asked archly.

"You must be joking," Neil said. "I buy the wine."

Grace laughed as they headed down the corridor.

"Well, go home, shower, get changed, buy the wine, meet at mine around 8.30?" she half-asked, half-instructed.

"Ma'am," Neil nodded his head.

* * *

At 8.30 sharp, Grace opened the door to a wine-bearing Neil.

"Hey," he greeted, kissing her briefly. "Smells good."

"No guarantee on the taste of it, though," Grace said wryly as he followed her through to the kitchen.

Two plates of freshly cooked pasta sat on her kitchen table, along with two empty wine-glasses. Neil wasted no time in opening the bottle, pouring them each a glass as Grace retrieved cutlery for them. Settling down at the table, Neil couldn't help but think how nice this was.

"This is good," he said, chewing his first mouthful appreciatively. And it was. True, it probably wouldn't win any culinary prizes, but the food was home-cooked, good, and best of all, cooked by Grace.

Grace smiled in relief, blushing a little as Neil set to his plate with a single-minded focus.

"What did you do on the weekend?" Neil asked between bites, determined to keep the conversation away from work for the duration of dinner.

"Just usual housekeeping on Saturday," Grace said, hesitatingly. "And, er, on Sunday, I went to one of…well…a few of us get together, you know, once a month or so to hang out on the weekend."

It had been one of the more uncomfortable experiences of her life with the freshly-made memories of sleeping with their boss weighing heavily on her. Stevie and Mickey's constant prodding about the 'old friend she'd had drinks with' hadn't helped. Fortunately, Banksy had taken pity on her and redirected the attention towards Terry's worry about Holly's new boyfriend. Terry's disgust at the boy's tattoos had provided great amusement for the ladies of CID (plus Jo), who'd immediately professed their love of tattoos in order to get him more riled up. Grace had also found it difficult to remain silent when the others complained about the DI's delay in telling them about his son, but luckily Banksy had stepped in for her there as well, defending him so she hadn't had to. Grace had the uncomfortable belief that Banksy suspected she was seeing Neil, but his lack of comment about it reassured her to some extent.

"Don't get enough of each other during work hours?" Neil teased. Seeing her serious expression, he sobered up. "Grace, it's okay. You don't have to tell me what you all did if you don't want the boss to know. Just because we're, you know, seeing each other, it doesn't mean you need to feel like you ought to tell me stuff about what they do and say. It's not them I'm interested in." He gave her a little arch smile, and she couldn't help but return it, nudging his shoulder affectionately.

"Mmh, I'm full," Neil said finally, two bowls of pasta later as he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his stomach. Grace laughed at him, taking his plate and rinsing it in the sink with hers.

"Hey, you think I eat a lot, wait until you see Jake," Neil said, deliberately casually and Grace felt a flush of pleasure go through her at the implied thought that he'd like her to meet his son. "With the steroids that boy's on, he eats three times as much as I do!" Despite himself, the mention of Jake immediately put a dampener on their evening, reminding them of another little boy who had not been so fortunate.

Turning, she smiled at him, picking her glass and the bottle of wine up. "Come on, let's sit in the lounge."

He followed obediently, sitting himself right next to her on what he was beginning to think of as his side of the couch.

"It wasn't your fault," Grace said. "There wasn't anything you could have said or done differently. He would have known if you lied to him, and it wouldn't have made the situation any better." Neil sighed.

"Couldn't have made it worse, though," he muttered bitterly.

"Kirsty and Leon...when they found him he was still warm," Grace pointed out, choking a little on the words. "They managed to revive Dom, and it's my opinion Dom would have hanged himself almost immediately after he was sure Paulo was dead. It was close, Neil. Not close enough, but you couldn't have made it closer."

"I know," Neil said quietly. "I still wish I could have done more. But I can't think of any way we could've have reasonably done better. I just…I think of my son…I'm just glad he's okay. I know that sounds selfish, but…"

"No, it doesn't," Grace said gently. "Jake's lucky to have you."

There was a stiff silence, before Grace turned to him, her own distress clear on her features. It was an unfortunate part of her job, that she frequently (all too frequently) saw dead and abused children. Paulo had touched a nerve, for both of them. Jake's illness was so recent and Neil's wounds from that were so fresh that she understood it had hurt. Grace, for her part, had spent the better part of the last couple of weeks comforting Neil through Jake's illness and the side-effects of his medication. In a world full of both couples desperate for children and ill or dying children through unforeseen and unpreventable illnesses like Jake's, the thought of killing a healthy, happy child was anathema to Grace. Dom had been _fortunate_ to have a son at all, let alone a son who was as healthy as Paulo. Paulo's death was nonsensical.

"I just always find these cases difficult. I mean, a guy who kills his son because he loves him? I don't, I mean, I see the reasoning, but it eludes me," she said, frustrated. "How can anyone think that their child's better off dead, Neil?"

"He was being selfish," Neil said. His warm hands enveloped hers, stroking them gently. "That's all it came down to: if he couldn't have Paulo and Luisa, nobody could. He didn't truly love them. If he did, he would have put their happiness above his."

Grace sighed, leaning her head forward to rest on his chest. Neil wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly before pulling back and tipping her chin up.

"I know," he said, looking directly into her eyes. "I know." He cupped her face in his hands, leaning in and kissing her. They drew comfort from each other's lips and tongue, burying the memories of little blonde curls blowing awry in a stiff park breeze in the other's taste and feel.

Drawing back, Neil quirked an eyebrow at the considering expression on her face. "What?" he asked gently, his thumbs tracing the contours of her face.

Grace's wry smile held more than a touch of sadness. "Trying to decide if we're too old for couch comfort sex," she admitted readily.

"Only one way to find out, isn't there?" Neil remarked softly, kissing her again more passionately.

His increasingly familiar touch was comforting. It was a little heady, how he seemed to just understand exactly what she wanted and needed from him, as they re-familiarised themselves with each other.

* * *

"What is it?" Neil mumbled into her collarbone as Grace started to push him off.

"We might not be too old for couch-sex," she told him as they sat up. "But we _are_ too old to lie here comfortably, and I'm sure you don't want another crick in your neck."

Pulling on his boxer-briefs, Neil nodded. Grace eyed her shirt on the floor, and impulsively reached for his instead, pulling it on before donning her own underwear.

"Come on," she said, offering her hand to her lover, leading him down the hallway to her bedroom.

"You're right, this is more comfortable," Neil said. Grace smiled, stroking the arm that had snaked around her waist as he spooned up against her back.

"Mmh, it is," she replied. "Dinner tomorrow?"

"Definitely," Neil promised. "There's this new restaurant that's opened up in West End, want to check it out?"

"The new French one?" Grace asked.

"Yep," Neil replied.

"Better try and get a reservation first thing," Grace said, twisting her neck around and giving Neil a quick goodnight kiss. "Night, lover."

A rare open and honest full-blown smile spread across Neil's face, his eyes softening at her words.

"Good night, Grace Anushri," he said affectionately, returning her kiss tenderly before curling back around her, enveloping her in his warm arms and scent.


	14. Skeletons

**Author's Note:** Thanks, as always for the reviews! This is set directly after the events of _The Calling_, so again, if you have not seen the episode and do not wish to be spoiled, read no further! [EDIT: thanks to one sharp-eyed reviewer, sazza XoX who picked up on the error I had made of mislabelling this as occurring after _Taking a Stand_ instead of _The Calling_. Well done!]

* * *

"Hi," Neil greeted her outside the restaurant with a brief kiss. They'd had to come straight from work: the restaurant had only had a booking free in the early evening.

"Hi," Grace said.

For the first time, they felt uncomfortable with each other, the events of the day with respect to Kirsty and Leon weighing heavily on their minds. They settled at their table wordlessly, examining the menus in silence.

"I guess the Kirsty and Leon expose has gotten to us," Neil broke the silence after they ordered.

"Yes. I felt sorry for them," she admitted with a sigh. She'd appreciated how Neil had stepped in quickly, watching Kirsty and Leon with a mixture of amusement and sympathy as they were humiliated in front of everybody.

"I don't think we'd be humiliated like that," Neil said quietly, in an effort to reassure her. He added half-seriously, "hopefully they're all far too cowed by me."

"That'll help you, Neil, not me," Grace pointed out.

"I don't think it would get to that," Neil repeated. "Leon and Kirsty were easy targets because it was a drunken one-night thing. They were embarrassed because they were already ashamed about it. You and me…we're more than that. I'm not embarrassed about us. We're doing nothing wrong." Neil took his hand in hers, squeezing it gently. Grace smiled weakly at him, appreciating the effort.

"Yeah, I know," she hesitated before adding, "I think Bansky knows, about us. And Mickey and Stevie suspect I'm seeing someone, but they don't think it's you."

"It wouldn't surprise me that Banksy's worked it out," he said slowly. "During, uh, when Jake was sick before, he kept telling me to tell you."

"He kept dropping hints to me," Grace nodded. "Trying to nudge me to figure it out, but I was too mad at you to really… uh…"

"Care," Neil finished with an understanding smile. "Don't blame you."

"The longer this goes on, the more likely they'll figure it out," Grace said with a sigh, rubbing her forehead. "I'm slipping up, not calling you 'guv' as much."

"It'd help if I could stop looking at you," Neil admitted wryly, looking down at the table uncomfortably. Grace blushed.

"Likewise," she said. "I just… I want to keep this between us. Give us time to work out where we're going, what we're doing." Neil nodded in agreement, looking like he wanted to say something, but pausing before he did.

"Look, Grace," Neil said finally, with a sense of purpose. "The only reason I have any concerns about them finding out… the reason this is difficult for me…"

He halted again, and Grace resisted the urge to prompt him, forcing herself to give him the time to articulate what he wanted to say.

"My divorce was very public," he said finally, meeting her eyes seriously. "And I'm not proud of it. I…I'm sure you've heard rumours about why it happened."

"I have," Grace nodded slowly. "There are a lot of them; you're quite a popular topic." His enigmatic demeanour, whispers about the ex-wife and her family, whispers about affairs, and the eye-catching arrest for murder (by Jack Meadows, no less) on his record all made him the most popular topic of coffee-machine gossip, along with Smithy.

"Well, if something like what happened today to them happens to us," Neil said slowly. "If you still want anything to do with me after this, that is, I want you to have the story from me."

"Well, I appreciate that," she said finally.

"It's a long story," Neil said. "I guess I should start from the beginning."

"A very good place to start," Grace said lightly, garnering a brief smile from him before he sobered up again.

"Philippa boarded at the girls' school near mine," Neil began. Grace felt a momentary flash of surprise at how far back he was starting, but stopped herself from saying anything. He obviously needed to get this off his chest in his way.

And so she let him talk. He told her about how their ambitions and individual work ethics had strained their young marriage, of the positive effect Jake had had on them. He told her about his posting to Sun Hill, initial animosity towards Jack, and about his reassignment of Eva when he'd found out she'd targeted his family. As the waiter brought their food, he told her about how the rumour of his father-in-law's use of rent boys had increased the strain on his marriage. Voice cracking, Neil had told her about Andrea Dunbar: the personality that he'd fallen in love with, her undercover job and her death; Grace's stomach plummeted as he confirmed this, the one rumour she'd desperately hoped was false. He explained his arrest for murder and the efforts he and Pippa had gone to try to repair their marriage for Jake's sake. His account was interspersed by brief bites of food, but generally it continued uninterrupted.

"We were holding it together," he said, his voice growing slightly hoarse. "Then her father came back into town during the middle of a case in which she was defending a pimp. She knew Roy was back in London, and didn't tell me. I assured CID that he had nothing to do with the court-case, during which the complainant slapped Pippa across the face. We investigated, and found a tape showing Roy…showing him with a rent-boy…the boy was barely older than Jake is now."

Neil's jaw clenched with remembered anger; he took a deep breath and continued to tell her about the events that had resulted in his father-in-law's death at the hands of one of the pimps he used and the subsequent meltdown of his marriage. When he'd finished brutally laying himself bare, he fell silent, staring at the table.

"This is a lot to take in," Grace said quietly. It was, although much of it had been echoed in rumour, hearing him admit to the affair made it far more real. For the last few months she had honestly worried he did not trust her, yet here he was, spilling his deepest mistakes for her scrutiny. That fact alone made it much easier to hear.

"I don't want to make the mistakes with you I made with Pippa and Andrea," he said, looking up with earnest eyes. "I don't want there to be things you don't know about me."

"Did you ever have any other affairs?" she had to ask.

"No. Never. It was just Andrea," his answer was immediate. "Since her, a couple of dates, usually set up by a friend or my sister which have never gotten beyond a fourth date." Grace nodded slowly, hesitating.

It wasn't as though Grace hadn't known he had skeletons (and a significant number of them, at that) in his closet, and she certainly appreciated being told about them all. Although Grace didn't necessarily subscribe to the maxim, _once a cheater, always a cheater_, it was statistically supported. On the other hand, the actions Neil had taken in his younger days were markedly different to how she knew he'd react now: he'd grown up a lot, she suspected.

"Neil," she said gently but firmly. "Cheating's a deal breaker for me." Neil nodded once, accepting this. "If we're going to do this, I need to do this properly."

"I've never felt worse about anything in my entire life," Neil said very quietly. "I don't want to feel like that again." He looked directly at her. "I want us to make this work, work properly."

Grace squeezed his hands. "Honesty's the best start, and with that, we can make this work," she assured him. "Thank you for telling me this, Neil."

"Thank you for not walking out on me," he said quietly and sincerely. Grace looked at him for a long moment, cataloguing the set of his shoulders, the spiked tufts of his hair, and the lines on his face. She'd always known Neil wasn't perfect, and his imperfections in some weird way just made her love him more.

This thought made her frown, trying to pinpoint the moment when attraction and friendship had deepened into falling in love with him. Setting the problem to one side, she realised she'd spent the better part of five minutes just looking at him in silence. Neil had allowed her time to absorb his confession, and she felt a wave of affection for him.

Leaning over, she pulled him in for a warm kiss.

"It's okay," she told him. "I'm okay with this: I trust you."

"Yeah?" the uncertainty in his eyes and voice was clear.

"We all have skeletons. That's okay – what matters, Neil, is that you've told me about this," she gently told him.

"Thank you," Neil tentatively leant in and kissed her in reply; kiss deepening as he tried to express his gratitude to her. "Again. It seems all I do is thank you."

Grace touched his cheek fondly. "We're okay," she assured him. His expression remained sombre, and, needing to lighten the atmosphere, she winked suggestively at him. "And don't worry, I can think of plenty of ways for you to make it up to me."

Finally Neil cracked a smile, a mixture of embarrassment, relief and smugness passing across his face.

"If that's the case," he said, taking her hands in his. "Then I have nothing to worry about." He leaned across the table.

"What say we go find ourselves some ice-cream?"

* * *

"Mmm," Grace sighed as the taste of chocolate gelato mingled not unpleasantly with the taste of her own strawberry ice-cream as warm hands caressed her cheeks.

"Your gelato's nice," Neil commented with a slight smile, which Grace returned, somewhat distractedly. "Hey, what's up?"

At his soft tone, Grace snapped her gaze back to his. "I was thinking," she said.

"Tell me something new," Neil teased. She smiled half-heartedly, and he dropped his hands from her face, picking up her hands instead. "I'm sorry. You were thinking…"

"About what I said before about skeletons in closets," Grace said. "It seems only fair that I tell you about mine."

"Grace," Neil said quietly. "I'm not after a tit-for-tat exchange."

"I want to tell you," Grace told him firmly.

"Okay," Neil nodded in surrender.

"I had a miscarriage," Grace said quietly, unconsciously tightening her grip on Neil's hands. Neil remained quiet, sensing she had more to say. "Sunil proposed a couple of days after I told him I was pregnant. Three months later I lost the baby." Grace looked down at their joined hands, furious at the slight choking in her throat – it had been over twelve years ago.

"Oh, Grace, I'm so sorry," she heard Neil murmur as he released her hands to wrap his arms around her.

"It's no big deal," she said stubbornly. "Not compared to Jake."

"It's a big deal to you," Neil said firmly, speaking directly into her ear. "So it's a big deal to me."

Grace found herself wrapping her arms around him and hugging him back briefly and fiercely. "Anyway," she continued. "My doctor made it pretty clear that I was unlikely to be able to conceive again. And Sunil… he just shrugged and said it was okay, we'd never really wanted kids anyway. But I did, I really did."

"So you left him," Neil completed quietly when she stopped. Grace nodded against his chest. "Oh, Grace, I'm so sorry. I've been crying to you about Jake…"

"He's a big deal to you, so he's a big deal to me," Grace echoed his earlier words, drawing back slightly to look him in the eye. He smiled gratefully at her. Grace looked back down to his chest, bringing one hand back around to fiddle with his tie. "Anyway, uh, only my sister knows about this in my family."

"Liam doesn't know about Roy," Neil nodded his understanding, tipping her chin up. Eyes soft, Neil closed the distance between their lips, kissing her comfortingly.

"I wish I could make it better," he said impulsively as they broke off the kiss, resting their foreheads together.

"Listening to me and taking it seriously helped," Grace told him, burying her face in his neck and inhaling his unique smell: a mixture of his cologne, coffee, and something just _Neil_. He held her tighter, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. For a long moment they sat like that.

"Let's go home," Grace mumbled into his neck. "Enough deep and meaningful conversations."

His chuckle vibrated through her and he released her enough to lean down and kiss her again before standing and offering her his hand. Grace accepted it, allowing him to pull her to her feet but dropped his hand immediately in favour of wrapping her arm around his waist. He smiled crookedly before wrapping a shy arm around her, steering her to the car.


	15. Photo Exchanges

**Author's Note: **_This_ is the chapter set after _Taking a Stand_ - complete brain meltdown, sorry about that! Thanks again for your feedback, I appreciate it :) This chapter's really just fluff, giving them a bit of a break before Max's return...

* * *

"Guv," Grace's familiar voice interrupted Neil from the paperwork he was doing and he immediately looked up to see her leaning on his door. "She's going to give a sample."

"Really?" Neil was surprised, then he frowned, waving Grace into his office. "I thought I made it clear Kirsty wasn't to approach-"

"Kirsty didn't, guv," Grace interrupted. "She volunteered when she realised he'd get away with it."

"Oh," Neil nodded. "Good, then."

Neil quickly glanced out the open office door.

"Come over tonight?" he asked very quietly. "I was going to order pizza."

"Sounds great," Grace replied equally quietly with a brilliant smile. She hadn't seen him since that night last week when they'd had the 'skeleton talk' as she now thought of it – he'd been caught up at work Wednesday and Thursday on a big drugs case that she had managed to dodge. He'd picked Jake up again Friday evening, and while they'd talked into the small hours of Sunday morning on the phone, she'd missed him.

"If, uh, if you want to stay over," Neil said quickly. "Feel free to bring a bag or something so we don't have to get up early."

Grace nodded, her smile broadening as they continued to look at each other.

"Guv," Banksy walked into the office, halting as he saw Grace already there and the pair oblivious to his presence. He repressed a smile. When he'd first met the DI, after he'd come back from sabbatical, it had been immediately obvious that he was just distant by nature. Despite this, he and Grace had seemed thick as thieves, speaking easily and past ranks. Banksy had suspected there was a deeper reason to Neil not telling the team about Jake's recent illness than just a desire for privacy. The way Grace had reacted to the increased distance between her and Neil had confirmed his belief that the feelings weren't one-sided.

"What is it, Banksy?" to his credit, Neil recovered quickly, tearing his eyes from Grace who excused herself.

"Just need this authorisation form signed, guv," Banksy said, deliberately ignoring the sharper-than-usual note in the DI's voice.

* * *

"Hey," Neil opened the door, smile broadening as he spotted the bag she carried somewhat awkwardly. Taking it from her, he set it by the stairs as she entered and shut the door behind her. Neil unexpectedly wrapped her in a hug.

"Missed you," he mumbled in her ear somewhat childishly.

Grace hugged him back, relishing the feel of his familiar body pressed up against her and savouring his smell.

"You've seen me at work," she laughed.

"Yeah, but it's different," he sighed. Grace drew back slightly, taking his face in her hands.

"I know," she said, more seriously, kissing him gently. A cheeky grin spread across his face.

"So you missed me too?" he asked, exaggeratingly childishly.

"You feeling okay?" Grace deadpanned, pretending to feel his forehead. "Neil Manson being sappy – it can only mean you've caught some horrendous, fatal disease." He chuckled, kissed her again, and grabbed her hands, towing her to the kitchen.

"Drink?" he offered.

"Lemonade would be great, if you have some," Grace asked. Neil nodded, producing a can of lemonade from the fridge.

"Usual?" he asked, picking up the phone and ordering the pizza at her nod.

As he examined the pizza coupons on his fridge door, attempting to haggle the price down (out of habit more than anything else), Grace idly wandered over to the dining table where a couple of photo albums were carelessly lying open.

"Jake and I were looking at them over the weekend," Neil's voice sounded behind her as he wrapped an arm around her. "Forgot to put them away. The one on the right's mine – Sarah did a whole bunch of family albums one time – and the one on the left is his. Just after Andrea died, Pippa started making that one for him. So that instead of her and me arguing about family photos, he got to keep them and the parent with custody got them."

"That sounds like a good idea," Grace said, leaning back in his embrace. After a moment, she twisted in his grip, smiling teasingly, "So, yours? Baby photos of widdle Neil?"

Neil groaned as she looked up to him with pleading eyes.

"I'd better see ones of you," he threatened, allowing himself to be pulled to the table. Carefully setting Jake's album aside, he flipped his back to the first page.

Grace laughed when she saw the first photo – a black and white photo of a very plump baby with one of the sternest expressions she'd ever seen on a small child. "Awww! Mr Grumpy-Face at a young age…"

"Shut it," Neil grumbled good-naturedly, a smile tugging at his lips.

"What brought this on?" Grace asked. It wasn't, as far as she knew, a typical father-son bonding activity.

"Looking at albums? Jake was showing me the photos he'd added – the ones we've taken over the past few months," Neil said. "He and Pippa put them in – I'm rubbish at this kind of stuff."

Grace decided to avoid that topic, flipping the page to see what must have been a family portrait.

"You've never spoken about your parents," she realised, looking at him in confusion. While she had spoken a lot about her parents, he'd barely mentioned his.

"Not much to say," Neil said with a shrug. "My mum died of cancer when I was four. My father sent me off to boarding school in London when I was eight."

That helped explain Neil's inability to cope with Jake's illness, Grace realised. Cancer to him was equated with a parent's death.

"Must have been rough," Grace said sympathetically.

"Not really," Neil said. "I mean, it was what I was used to. Besides, Ricky," he flipped forward a few pages, landing on a school photograph. "There, third from the left, back row. He and I, we looked out for each other well enough."

"All right, let's go through this properly," Grace demanded, flicking back to the second page. Neil acquiesced surprisingly easily, leaning over her to point things out. The doorbell rang just as they reached his raving years as Grace mocked him mercilessly for the hideous clothing he wore.

"Pizza," Neil explained. "Back in a sec."

Grace flicked over, smiling at the photos of a much younger Neil in his early twenties. He'd been serious all the way through, but it was still reassuring to note that he'd been able to loosen up by his college days (although that probably had something more to do with the frighteningly large number of empty alcohol bottles she saw surrounding him and his friends).

Neil came back, plonking the pizza on the table between them.

"Napkins, Neil, or we'll get grease all over it," she objected as he reached for a slice, bit into it, and then made to point with one of his dirty fingers. He rolled her eyes at her, but obediently trotted into the kitchen and retrieved napkins.

"That's Claire," he said, stabbing a finger at the young blonde on Ricky's lap. "Rick's wife."

"She's very pretty," Grace commented. Neil grunted. Grace made to turn the page over, and immediately the atmosphere grew tense.

"You look very handsome," she said finally, softly, as she tore her eyes away from his wedding photos.

Neil grimaced. "This is still weird, isn't it?"

Grace shrugged. "It's just parts of each other's pasts we'll have to deal with," she said pragmatically, recovering from her shock enough to smile at Rick's silly face in one of the wedding photos. She frowned, realising that the wedding photos were the only ones to consist of Neil and Philippa as a couple – and even then, the photos were of the bridal party. "You said Sarah did this?"

"After the divorce," Neil confirmed. "If that's what you're wondering – why Pippa's not in many photos."

Grace grinned at him. "Mind-reader." She moved to turn the next page, but Neil stopped her.

"What?" she asked, turning to look at him.

"Look, Grace…the next part of my life involves baby photos of Jake," Neil said, face screwed up in discomfort. He hadn't been sure whether or not to raise this topic with her, but Neil was determined to at least try to be as supportive of her as she had been of him. "I don't…I mean, I know that it was tough for you, and, you know, with Jake we can go slowly if that's what you want. I want you to be comfortable, so if I'm overstepping or if you don't want to hear or talk about it just tell me, okay?"

Grace turned to look at him, laying a hand against his cheek. It was somewhat disturbing, even to her, that she'd understood his garbled message. What was more disturbing, however, was the contrast between the way Neil was trying to deal with the miscarriage and the way Sunil had reacted - or not reacted.

"Thank you," she said softly, kissing him gently. "But you haven't been rushing me. Although, the more I hear about Jake, the more I look forward to meeting him when he and you are ready. He sounds like quite a kid!"

Neil smiled at her, returning the kiss warmly and flipping the page.

"He looks just like you," she said quietly as she smiled at a photo of Neil stretched out, fast asleep on a couch with a baby Jake stretched along his chest.

* * *

"You're a cute kid," Neil remarked, flipping Grace's battered old album back to photos of her around the age of five or six. Grace rolled her eyes at him, standing and stepping over his legs to take their plates to the kitchen.

"Just because I'm dressed in a stupid fairy dress," she grumbled, loud enough for him to hear. The man had demanded to see her photos from the moment they walked in the door that evening; eager to find a correspondingly embarrassing photo of her to the ones of him as a raver. Unfortunately, he'd found one.

"Grace, it's bright pink, and you're wearing wings, and carrying a wand," Neil's amused voice carried into the kitchen. "And it looks like you may be covered in glitter."

"Truce," Grace offered, walking back into the lounge room and extending her hand. "You say nothing, I say nothing. We saw nothing."

"Deal," he agreed, shaking her hand and snapping her photo album closed, placing it on the table.

"There's a documentary on BBC1 I was hoping to watch," Grace began. "It starts in about twenty minutes."

"Okay," Neil shrugged. "What's it on?"

"History of dance," Grace replied. "I was thinking maybe we could watch it in bed, or rather, I could watch it, you could do reports and act as a human pillow."

"Sounds good," Neil said with a warm smile, which Grace returned.

"Showers first," she instructed, just as the phone rang.

"I'll go first," Neil mouthed as Grace picked up the phone with a cheery greeting to her sister.

Stepping into her room, freshly showered, Grace couldn't help but grin widely as she saw a freshly-scrubbed Neil propped up against the headboard, brow furrowed while he read a report. The TV, set to the correct channel, played quietly in the background.

"I could get used to this," she said with a smile when he looked up at her questioningly. Slipping under the covers, Neil raised his arm, waiting until she'd burrowed comfortably into his side before wrapping the arm around her.

"So could I," he said quietly.

Looking up from the report, some new initiatives the Yard wanted the Met to adopt, Neil realised that Grace's breathing had evened out. Glancing down to where her hair spilled across his chest, he determined that she was, in fact, sound asleep. Turning off the TV, he let the report drop into his open briefcase on the bedside table. Switching the light off, he carefully manoeuvred so he was also lying down. Grace shifted, and he froze, but she just snuggled closer to his chest, just as out of it. Probably the nicest thing about all of this was the fact that they could get up at a sane time tomorrow without having to drive to the other person's place. So long as Neil gave her a ten minute head start, nobody would have cause to suspect anything…


	16. Of Racecars and Revelations

**Author's Note: **Thanks again for all your support! This chapter has a bit of Jake in it, for those of you who think he's cute and to complicate things a little. This chapter is set both before and after _Who Dares Wins_ - insert that episode between the third and fourth 'scenes' of this chapter to make the whole thing make sense. [Spoiler incoming] If you haven't seen _Who Dares Wins_, the basic gist of it involves Max coming back from his cocaine-induced holiday, noticing our lovers standing together and spreading an (accurate) rumour about them being involved. This causes Grace some concerns...

* * *

"Dad!" Neil grunted as a flying body went _thump_ on top of him. "Wake up, sleepy-head!"

Neil groaned, burying his head further into the pillow and inhaling Grace's scent. He'd felt pretty stupid the previous night when, in a fit of insomniac pique, he'd swapped his pillow for the one Grace slept on when she was over. Once he'd done so, however, he'd fallen straight asleep and as he was the only one who knew he supposed it wasn't sentimental as much as practical. Right?

"Is he alive?" Jake's morning breath assailed his nose, and a small finger poked his shoulder. Neil's lips tugged upward despite himself. "Ah, he's smiling!"

"Arrrr," Neil mock-roared, opening his eyes to see his son's baby-blue ones staring back at him. Neil rolled over and pinned the boy to the bed, tickling him as Jake squealed in delight.

"I'm hungry, Dad," Jake informed him later as they sprawled breathlessly across the bed, early morning wrestling session over.

"Tell me something new," Neil sighed. "All right, mate, give me a few minutes to get dressed. What do you feel like?"

"Cake!" Jake pronounced. Just as Neil was about to chide him, he quickly added, "of the pan type."

"Pan-type cakes, eh," Neil sat up, shooing the boy out. "All right. How about you get out the flour, the eggs, milk and butter for me? I won't be long."

Dragging himself to the bathroom, and dunking his head under the tap, Neil grinned stupidly when he saw the toothbrush Grace had left at his on Thursday night. By unspoken agreement, they'd spent the week alternating between their places, arriving in separate cars and leaving separately so as to not arouse suspicion in the nick.

It was great. Not only had Neil gotten more sex in the past two weeks than he had in the past five years, but they'd slipped so easily into a comfortable domesticity he'd never really had. At this point, Neil had inevitably made the comparisons between Grace and the other two women of his life. Life with Philippa had been serious: they'd both been so committed to their careers that they'd forgotten how to enjoy each other's company, resulting in frequent fights. His brief time with Andrea had always, of course, been overshadowed by the guilt he'd felt every night that he returned to the family home he shared with his high-school sweetheart and the son with his wife's eyes.

The emotional intimacy he shared with Grace was as deep as what he'd had with Andrea, and in some ways more encompassing: he'd never felt comfortable sharing Jake with her. And the intellectual intimacy that he had clung to with Philippa through all the bad times was just as strong with Grace. It wasn't that he loved her _more_ than he had loved Andrea or Pippa, it was just that they were more compatible for a lasting relationship. Which was what, Neil promised himself, this would be.

And had he mentioned the sex was _fantastic_?

He'd not felt this good since the months just after Jake's birth. Jake. Sitting hungry in the kitchen, doing Lord-knew-what to his tidy cupboards. Pulling sweatpants on, Neil hurried downstairs as he wrestled with his shirt.

* * *

"So, Dad," Jake said. Neil grunted a response, concentrating on keeping his car on the track. Jake might not have troubles talking and gaming at the same time, but Neil did. "Does Grace like video games?"

They'd spent the past two weekends alternating between talking about Jake's worries about his impending return to school, his chemotherapy and his barrage of questions about Grace (often beginning with a "_Does Grace like" _or "_Do you know what Grace thinks"_). Neil had endeavoured to answer every question as honestly as he could.

"I don't know, Jake," Neil answered, grimacing as his car skidded past the short-cut and Jake's car pulled even further ahead. "I don't think she really plays them much."

"Maybe she could come over some time and we could see?" Jake suggested shyly.

Giving up the game as a bad job when his car spectacularly crashed into a barrier at this comment from his ten year old, he laid his remote down before turning to the boy.

"Do you want to meet her?" Neil asked in honest surprise. Jake, seeing his dad abandon the game, put his remote down too.

"Don't you want me to?" Jake asked, frowning.

"No, no, no," Neil hastily backpedalled. "I'd love you to. I just… I want you to feel comfortable. I know it's tough, Jakey, and I don't want to rush you if you don't feel up to meeting someone new."

"I'd like to know what she's like," Jake said quietly and somewhat nervously. "Do you think she'll like me? Does she want to meet me?"

Jake had thought very hard about his Dad and Grace for the last two weeks. While he'd known that there was no way his parents were getting back together, what with their big fight a few years ago (which he'd helped cause, he acknowledged with some guilt) and Mum now married to Liam. Despite himself, he'd still hoped a little that his parents might fix things up. But Dad had seemed so much happier, more than Jake could remember seeing him, since he'd starting dating Grace, and Jake wanted his Dad to be happy.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," Neil said gently, running a hand over his son's shaved head. To Jake's delight, his hair had begun to regrow and he currently sported a short buzz-cut. "She's a bit nervous too, but she'd like to meet you."

"Okay," Jake nodded, jaw firming in a similar manner to his father's. His mind was made up. "But we'll have to think really hard of something to do together so it's not too weird before we invite her over."

Neil looked at his sensible, empathetic little boy and wrapped him in a bear hug. "I love you," he said firmly, as Jake mock-protested at the display of affection. Releasing Jake, Neil picked his controls up again and restarted the race from the beginning. "We'll have to work on that, eh?"

* * *

"Governor's here," Terry said, looking up as Neil parked next to his and Grace's car.

"I'm going to get started on looking at this," Eddie said, already beginning to open his case of test tubes and swabs.

"I'll catch him up," Grace volunteered. Terry smiled at her gratefully: the less he had to experience Neil Manson before his 9am cup of coffee, the better. Manson was a decent boss (certainly had come a fair way since he started) but that didn't stop him from being curt and grumpy in the mornings – a headache Terry could do without especially as Max was due to make his return today.

"Morning, guv," Grace called out as she ducked under the cordon. Neil shut his car door, leaning against it.

"Morning," he said, carefully keeping his face and voice professional as he nodded to Callum Stone who was heading back up to the cordon. "What've we got?"

"Deceased male. Mid-thirties at a guess," Grace told him succinctly. "Eddie's just starting now, he only just beat you."

Neil nodded. "Okay. Max is going to head this up when he gets here. I've got to head up to Oxton."

"Meetings?"

"Yeah," Neil said with a slight sigh as he surveyed the cordon, eyes sharp for any poor behaviour on the part of the uniformed officers manning it. Seeing that Stone had everything under control, he focussed his attention back on Grace. "Hey. How was your weekend?"

"I babysat Ravi for my sister and her husband on Saturday night," Grace said. "So noisy, messy, and absolutely fun."

"He's the six year old, right?" Neil checked his facts. "His sisters stayed at friends' places?"

"Yes, and yes. Ravi's just so affectionate it makes up for the fact he manages to break practically everything within reach," Grace said with a fond smile. "How's Jake doing?"

"Good," Neil said, a smile at the memory of Jake's query about meeting his dad's girlfriend coming to the forefront. He momentarily debated whether or not to tell Grace then and there, but decided against it. It wasn't really the sort of conversation he wanted to have under the prying eyes of the bored officers behind them. "The medications have settled down, and he's managing the side effects a lot better now. He had another nightmare on Sunday night, but nothing too bad. Pippa mentioned he'd had a few through the week, but they were more general than that first one."

"I'm glad to hear that," Grace said warmly.

"So, dinner tonight?" Neil asked very quietly, double-checking nobody was within ear-shot.

"Absolutely," Grace smiled. "What do you feel like? I haven't had Thai for a while."

"Sounds great. That Thai place we went to the other week was really good. Pick you up about, say, 6.30?" Neil agreed.

"Assuming a quiet day," Grace said wryly as Max pulled up. Their luck had been good, thus far, but Neil had made the unfortunate error of commenting on this fact during a phone call on the weekend and Grace expected their luck to now turn. While Max and Neil exchanged pleasantries, Grace opened her car door, ducking down to retrieve a pair of rubber gloves.

* * *

"Oh, God," Grace sighed as she closed her apartment door with relief, carelessly dropping her keys on the table next to the door before collapsing onto her couch in the lounge.

She just couldn't work out what had started the rumours. Okay, sure, their discussion in the morning had perhaps been less-than-discrete, but when she'd glanced over, Nate and Kirsty had been fooling around while Stone spoke to Terry. Nobody had been paying her and Neil the slightest attention.

Nobody had directly approached her today, thank goodness. Grace would've been unable to anything but stand there gaping in surprise. It'd been Kirsty who'd inadvertently tipped her off about the rumours. Grace had been walking up to the coffee machine which Kirsty and Leon had been hovering around. They'd been talking quietly, and it wasn't until she was almost directly behind them that she'd been able to make out what Kirsty had been saying.

"Focus should be well and truly off us now," she'd said with some triumph.

"Why now?" Leon had muttered, punching the machine.

"You'll never believe it: the DI and Grace are, you know…"

"You're kidding!"

At that point in the exchange, Grace had rushed upstairs to CID in search of Neil, heart pounding. She'd knocked perfunctorily on the door, asked for a minute, and shut the door behind her before he'd so much as nodded.

His absurd suggestion that they get everyone together and formally announce it had done wonders for her nerves. He was deadly serious (or had seemed to be: while her understanding of Neil-speak was probably unmatched by anyone else, he was so deadpan it was still difficult to tell) and it was adorable that he wanted to 'do it properly'. The fact that he seemed singularly unconcerned about people knowing about them had been the most reassuring thing he could've done at that point.

Then Max had interrupted, and they'd spent the rest of the day busy working on this murder. It was incredibly uncomfortable to think of their relationship (so painfully new despite the depth of feeling Grace had recently realised she felt for him) being discussed so casually by people who she barely knew. It hurt to think what some would be saying of Neil, that he was just a skirt-chaser (particularly in light of his history). Grace was also honest enough to admit that what hurt the most was what people would be saying about her: that she was sleeping her way into the boss' good graces.

What they were doing was nothing like that. If he had been a co-worker, and not her boss, Grace would've given him two weeks to ask her out before asking him out, and they would've done this entire thing three years ago.

She just couldn't see how they could work together, and the thought of losing their working relationship hurt. Grace _liked_ working with him; they complimented each other and were particularly effective as an interviewing partnership. Not to mention the ribbing she'd get from the others: Stevie and Mickey in particular would never let her forget this. And if it didn't work out, she'd have to leave Sun Hill anyway.

The sound of someone knocking at her door interrupted her thoughts and she reflexively looked at the clock, cursing when she saw it was the time Neil had agreed to pick her up.


	17. Paranoia

**Author's Note:** Thanks again to everyone who takes the time to review! :)

* * *

"Hey," Grace sounded tired, and looked even more stressed than she had that morning in his office as she answered the door. "Sorry, I got…I was thinking and lost track of the time."

"Hey," Neil quickly soothed, resting his hands on her elbows and rubbing her arms gently. "It's all right. If you're not feeling up to it we don't have to go out."

"I don't really," Grace admitted with a sigh, finally letting him in. "I just…can we stay home?"

"Of course," Neil said gently, looking at her with his sharp eyes. "C'mere."

Grace willingly let herself be wrapped in his embrace, burying her head in his shoulder and inhaling his comforting smell. She sighed heavily, shuffling a little closer as his arms tightened around her in response.

"Rough day, hey?" he asked directly in her ear sympathetically, and a little guiltily. He felt Grace nod against his chest, her arms tightening around him so he just continued to stand there and hug her. After a long moment, her grip loosened so he drew back.

"Hi," he said very gently, kissing her softly on the lips. "Come on, why don't we order Thai instead? I'll just pick it up later."

"Hungry?" Neil was relieved to see a ghost of a smile flash across Grace's face, and, happy to play up to it, he rubbed his stomach exaggeratedly.

"Famished. What do you want?"

As they haggled over their order, Neil took the opportunity to make them each a cup of tea. Setting them down in the lounge as Grace finished ordering over the phone, Neil carefully thought how best to approach it.

"So, talk to me," he decided to just prompt her gently, after they'd sat for a few moments in silence.

"I know they were going to find out eventually," Grace said quietly. "I just didn't expect it to be quite so soon. And we've not discussed how we're going to manage it –"

"You rejecting my suggestion then?" Neil asked lightly, eager to head off one of Grace's nervous rants.

"Oh Neil," Grace sighed reprovingly. "Be serious."

"Grace Anushri," Neil's use of her full name had her attention back on him. This was the first time he'd used her full name outside the bedroom (or, more accurately, outside of traditionally-bedroom acts). "I don't care if they know about us. We're not doing anything wrong–"

"Right now, you're my boss _and _the guy I sleep with," Grace said, frustrated. "Of course the people we work with are going to have issues!"

"You didn't let me finish," Neil chided gently, reaching for her hands. "What I'm serious about, right now, is us. If you ask me, denying it now will lead to further problems later on, but I'm happy to play it your way."

Grace felt her heart melt at his words, and she squeezed his hands gratefully.

"Really?" she hated how needy she sounded, but he just smiled and kissed her lingeringly.

"I'm going to have to sort out chain of command with Jack and Smithy," he said quietly. "So there's little ground for any allegations of improper conduct with regards to the management of cases, but other than that, we can manage this how you want."

"What would that entail?" Grace asked.

"We've done it a few times before," Neil took care to explain. "It's not new. Obviously, if there's a chance you'll be in danger we'll do our best to avoid me being the one calling the shots although that might not necessarily always be the case. There'll be no more partnership on cases: we'll put an extra layer of rank in between you and I, so you'll report to a DS or Uniform Sergeant who'll report to me rather than directly to me, and Jack will probably take care to conduct more cases with you as SIO. He's already taken over your reviews."

Grace nodded, glad to hear some of the measures he outlined. It would avoid a repeat of the Kapur incident - no matter how great the date that night had been, it was not an event Grace wanted to repeat.

"I agree with you, about not denying it," she said abruptly. "Cat's out of the bag, as they say. But maybe we should leave it at that – don't actively tell people we're dating, but allow the news to make its rounds."

Neil nodded acquiescence.

"I think we also need rules for work, what we do," Grace continued. "No closed-door conversations in your office. No personal conversations. Obviously no bringing arguments from home to work, although that's probably easier said than done. No kissing."

Neil sighed melodramatically, easing forward and kissing her again. "I know the reasons for that rule," he mumbled, resting his forehead against hers. "But I _like _kissing you."

Despite herself Grace couldn't help but smile a little goofily at him. Neither she nor Neil were generally sentimental people, but somehow, she always felt they ended up that way when they were together.

"Idiot," she said affectionately, caressing his cheek and pulling him in for another slow kiss.

"Well, I'll go get dinner," Neil said as they parted. "Go have a nice long shower, and I'll be back soon."

* * *

Walking into the station the next morning, Grace could feel all of Neil's hard work at getting her relaxed the previous night (his ability to give great back rubs had cemented him as a keeper) come undone. Maybe she was overreacting, but it felt like every eye was on her, scrutinising her every move. Knowing Neil was fifteen minutes behind her, she kept herself to her usual morning schedule: dropping her things on her desk, collecting a coffee, returning to her desk to peruse the reports she had to file.

She cursed the fact she looked tired. Neil hadn't been lying when he said he didn't need much sleep, and he was still trying to perfect the art of leaving bed without waking her. He tended to sleep only five or so hours a night, meaning that he usually woke at four or five in the morning. Now that they were spending nights together on a regular basis, Neil had reversed his paperwork schedule, doing reports in the morning rather than late evening.

This morning when Neil had failed to extricate himself smoothly (although it wasn't really entirely his fault that she'd sprawled over the top of him), Grace had lain awake for a good couple of hours, unable to sleep. They needed to work out a better system: she hated not waking up to him beside her.

"So, Grace," Mickey sat himself down on the edge of her desk, looking uncharacteristically solemn.

"So, Mickey," Grace mimicked, raising her eyebrow questioningly when he didn't continue. She became increasingly aware of Terry and Banksy observing the conversation closely.

"Max has…well, in effect, he's been saying that that 'old friend' of yours you've been seeing is the DI," he said finally and as delicately as he could. "_Are_ you and the DI…" Mickey struggled for a delicate way to put it.

"Dating," Banksy said, stepping in to rescue Mickey from putting his foot in it.

"Yes," Grace said succinctly, funnelling her attention to the screen in front of her.

"You're kidding, en't you?" Mickey said with a forced laugh.

"No, Mickey, I'm not," Grace said, tensing her shoulders defensively.

"Grace, when Meadows finds out he'll blow a –"

"He already knows, Mickey," Grace told him.

"Since when?" Terry managed to finally ask after a long moment of stunned silence.

"I'm not discussing it, Terry," Grace said firmly, looking toward the older detective. "_Any_ of it."

Mickey shook his head in disbelief. "Holy shit. I don't believe this! _He's _been the one putting that smile on your face?" Grace rolled her eyes at his word, fighting a blush, but was saved from having to reply by Neil and Jo's arrival in CID.

"She's an eight year old girl, guv, and her mother noted some bruising to her back and legs. Mother brought her in but she's just clammed up on us," Jo was explaining. "I was thinking maybe Grace might have more luck."

"Banksy, Grace," Neil summoned the pair with a tip of his head. "Possible abuse of a minor. Keep me in the loop, Jo."

Without so much as a glance in her direction, which both relieved and stung a little, Neil turned and entered his office, sitting himself down and immediately beginning to go through his in-tray. Grace for her part couldn't get away from Mickey and Terry's stunned expressions quickly enough.

"I for one am glad," Banksy told her quietly and supportively. "I think you will be good together."

"Thanks, Banksy, but really, I'd rather we just dropped it," Grace said with a weak smile, eyeing Jo's back nervously. Jo didn't disappoint.

"What's this?" she asked with a teasing grin. "You got a new fella?"

Grace sighed, shooting a glare at Banksy who winced apologetically.

"How about I go get us some coffee?" he suggested hastily, not waiting for a response. Jo frowned in confusion.

"Grace?"

"Your office," Grace sighed, pulling Jo into the fortunately Callum-less Sergeant's office.

"I'm surprised you haven't heard," Grace said with a touch of bitterness. "It seems to be all over the nick. I…I've been…seeing…Neil."

"Neil," Jo's eyebrows furrowed as she tried to make sense of what her friend was saying. "Neil who?"

"Manson."

"Grace, please tell me this is some elaborate prank," Jo's eyes were serious and disapproving. "He's not good enough for you."

"I am over twenty one, Jo. I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions," Grace snapped back, feeling bad as Jo recoiled slightly. She and the other woman had become very good friends, best friends in fact. She knew Jo felt hurt that Grace hadn't confided in her, but Grace hadn't done so because she knew that Jo wasn't terribly fond of Neil. "Sorry, it's just…everyone seems to have an opinion on it."

"You're our friend, and we care about you," Jo said quietly. "Look, why don't we discuss it tonight, over dinner?"

Grace sighed, but knew agreeing would get Jo off her back for the day and so nodded resignedly.

* * *

"Good work, everyone," Smithy congratulated them at the end of the day. The little girl's neighbour was currently a guest of their custody suite in what had been a flawless investigation. "Now, who's up for the pub?"

"Absolutely, guv," Nate and Banksy said almost immediately.

"Sorry, guv, Grace and I are having a girls' night," Jo said quickly, seeing Neil's eyes flicker to Grace.

"Why not?" Neil asked lightly. "You volunteering to shout us one, Smithy?" Jo couldn't help but admire the man's composure – she knew he hadn't known about them having dinner together and yet not a trace of anything had shown on his face. Nobody was any the wiser about their relationship from his response.

"Tell you what, Neil," Smithy said with a grin, clapping the other man on the shoulder as the officers filed out of the incident room. "I'll buy the first if you'll buy the second."


	18. Best Friends and Billiards

**Author's Note:** Thank you, as always, to everyone who takes the time to review!

* * *

Grace sat at the table with a sigh. They'd gone to their favourite place – a quiet little café a few streets away from the nick. It had been a long day. Grace could only count herself fortunate that she and Banksy hadn't ended up spending much time in CID. Max had been insufferable every time she walked in, constantly throwing jibes about her and Neil around until Grace had just wanted to sink into the floor from embarrassment and repressed anger.

"Look, Grace," Jo's gentle tone redirected her attention back to her dinner partner. "I guess I was a little hasty this morning, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Grace smiled tightly. "I guess I overreacted too. I knew everyone would have their two cents to contribute, it's just…they've all come in at once."

"I've known Neil Manson a long time," Jo said after a moment. She knew Grace didn't want to hear negative things said about the DI, but Jo felt she had an obligation to make sure that her friend knew what kind of baggage the man had. "He's not got the cleanest record: his marriage ended messily, to say the least –"

"Before you launch into a detailed dissection of his divorce," Grace interrupted. "He's told me about his divorce and the events leading up to it."

Jo raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Including Andrea Dunbar?" she asked. Mickey had confided in her about that one time, his knowledge from the NCS investigation adding weight to rumours she'd mostly dismissed.

"Yes," Grace said simply.

"And you're okay with that?" Jo asked in surprise. "I always thought that infidelity would be grounds for dumping, for you."

"A past indiscretion?" Grace thanked the waiter as he set their food in front of them. "Jo, I already know the man's not perfect. Need I remind you who he lashed out at during Jake's illness?"

"What about your career?" Jo moved on, determined to try another tack. "It's all over the nick, Meadows will find out –"

"Meadows already knows," Grace interrupted again.

"How?" Jo asked, unwanted mental images of the pair being…interrupted…crossing her mind. Grace rolled her eyes.

"Nothing like that," she said, blushing slightly. "Get your mind out of the gutter! We went to the movies, and ran into the Super and his date there."

"You went to the movies…"Jo shook her head in disbelief. "Sorry, hun. You went to the _movies_ with Neil Manson."

"Saw _Inception_," Grace added, laughing at the bemusement on Jo's face. "Why, what?"

"It's just…so _normal_," Jo couldn't help but laugh at the mental image of Grace and Neil going to the _movies_, eating popcorn, holding hands as they watched...she sobered up abruptly. "But Grace, even with the Super's blessing, which I'm sure is conditional, that doesn't mean that an affair like this is not going to harm your career."

Grace sighed. It was going to be a long evening.

* * *

"Oi, guv, give you a game?" Neil turned away from where he was leaning against the bar in conversation with Smithy to see Mickey Webb offering him a billiards cue.

"If I must," Neil mock-groaned, accepting the cue. "Excuse me, Smithy."

"Good luck, mate," Smithy called after the pair as Neil followed Mickey to where Banksy and Terry were setting up the balls for them.

"Good luck, guv, try to sink something," Banksy said with a smirk. Neil was the kind of person that Banksy would have thought would have been good at pool, but the governor was actually moderately dreadful.

"He'll sink them, don't worry, Banksy," Terry said with a wink as the DI moved out of earshot. "He's got some modicum of pride."

"The man's dreadful at the game," Banksy said with a frown. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, that's right," Terry said, laughing and inadvertently spilling some of his pint. He carefully and quickly set the glass of precious liquid down. "You started after Grace. Well, the DI used to be good at this, not as good as Roger, mind you, but pretty good. Beat me and Micks on a regular basis. A couple of months after Grace started, he made a poor shot and she corrected him. His pool-playing's gotten steadily worse ever since, but only while she's around."

Banksy cracked up, spilling some of his own beer and drawing confused glances from Mickey and Neil. "You're kidding," he chortled.

"About what?" Mickey asked. Terry shook his head at him, noticing Neil also listening.

"Just something Hol said once," he lied. "Get back to your game."

As Neil bent to take the opening shot, Terry nudged Banksy. "Watch and see," he said.

Banksy observed Neil play, and did in fact notice that the DI was much smoother about his shots and much more decisive. Usually he'd hesitate or line up an implausible shot until Grace prompted him with what shot to take and where to angle the ball.

"That's hilarious," Banksy started laughing again.

"Come on you two," Mickey said, handing them his cue. "Enough giggling in the corner – me and the governor against you pair!"

Right on cue, Neil's phone rang.

"Jakey, lad," Neil greeted as he moved out of earshot, spirits buoyed by the couple of pints he'd consumed.

Banksy couldn't help but smile as he watched the DI chat contentedly away to Jake. It was a far cry from the tearful but stoic man who had, in a choked and whispered voice, confided in Banksy about his chronically ill son.

"What do you think, then?" Terry's voice interrupted him. "You didn't seem too surprised, unlike Micks here."

Mickey glared at Terry as he leaned on the billiards cue. "Yeah, I didn't see it coming," Mickey admitted. "I don't know, though. I ain't seen Grace so happy, but I doubt it'll last. I mean, honestly, what could she see in him?"

"Same thing could be said about you not being surprised, Terry," Banksy retorted. "I think it's good. They suit each other. I wasn't surprised because…when Jake was sick; he was worried about not telling her. It was the most logical explanation."

"I've known Manson a long time," Terry said darkly. "She's just his type: an independent, smart, dry, classy brunette. I think she could do a lot better, but if Jo can't convince her of that I've got a snowball's chance in hell. But if he hurts her," Terry's protective instincts rose to the fore. "He won't know what's hit him."

Neil re-approached the group, feeling the weight of their regard as their gazes shifted to him. Forcing himself to maintain his impassive expression, he was surprised to find that Banksy's reassuring smile put him a little more at ease. While he'd rather that he got hassled about this entire thing instead of Grace, Neil didn't particularly relish the idea of Grace's friends amongst the officers targeting him.

"Come on, who's first?" he asked, raising his eyebrows and gesturing to the table. As Mickey and Terry promptly began to argue about who should break, he breathed a silent sigh of relief.

* * *

"Look, Jo, I know you don't approve," Grace said, frustration lacing her tone. Dinner had proven to be tense, with Jo continuing to criticise Neil. On the one hand, she appreciated that Jo was just trying to look out for her, but _really_, she was a grown woman! Ironically, Jo's words had only served to increase Grace's (shaky, as of the day she'd had!) confidence in their relationship: the other woman had not been able to bring up any ghosts from Neil's past he hadn't already told her about in depth, well before they'd been outed to Sun Hill. "But please, I promise to let you have 'I told you so' rights. Can we just leave it? I just want the opportunity to see if we can make this work."

Jo sighed and set her fork down.

"If that's what you really want," she said. "You know I'm behind _you_ all the way: and if he hurts you, DI or not, he'll be answering to me."

Grace smiled weakly.

"I just…I'm surprised you haven't told anyone at all," Jo continued. "I'm surprised you hadn't told me."

So much for being done, Grace thought with a sigh.

"I knew you'd do this," Grace explained wearily. "You're my friend, Jo, and I value your opinion and your company, but I know you've never really liked him. Besides, we needed to have some time where it was just us, where we could just see where this was going without having a whole bunch of other people involved."

Jo sighed, setting her fork down. "Okay," she said. "I…I hope it works out for you – I honestly want you to be happy, and I suppose this entire thing will be hard enough without me being in your face."

"Thank you," Grace said in relief. "I appreciate you looking out for me, but _we're_ fine. Anyway, what have you been up to?"

* * *

"Hi," his voice travelled down the line and alleviated some of the knots in her stomach.

"Hi," Grace sighed back, settling more comfortably under the covers. "How was the pub?"

"I can't recall having so many people stare at me for so long for quite a while," he said wryly. "It was fine. I spoke with Smithy, played pool with Mickey, Terry and Banksy."

"Did they say anything?" the nervous question escaped her lips.

"Grace," Neil's voice was gentle. "Not directly. But Banksy kept giving me approving looks. Mickey still looked surprised and Terry was giving out protective vibes. They'll get over it; just give them time to get used to the idea." He paused, hesitating, before he asked, "How did it go with Jo? Am I going to be murdered in my office tomorrow?"

Neil and Jo's relationship couldn't exactly be classed as close. He appreciated her humour, a fair bit more than he tried to let on, but the fact was that while they respected each other and worked well together they'd never really interacted on anything but a professional level – and a combative one at that.

He was relieved when Grace chuckled dryly, despite her worries.

"Yeah, you're safe," she said, unsure whether he wanted to hear how it really went.

"I know it must have been rough. She wouldn't exactly have been singing my praises," Neil said slowly. "Don't get me wrong, I'm quite happy to work with her and I think she's a good copper and all that, but we've never gotten along personally. Never really tried, to be honest, and I don't think she was particularly impressed by my divorce."

"That's more or less what she said," Grace said, relieved that he wasn't under any illusions about Jo's feelings toward him. "And she tried to talk me out of it."

"Speaking solely selfishly, I hope she failed," Neil said after a pause.

"Oh, Neil, for heaven's sake," Grace snapped, exhaustion and stress taking its toll. She closed her eyes with a sigh. She hadn't meant to snap at him. "Oh, I'm sorry. Just, I can't deal with you going insecure on me right now. If I didn't want to see you, this call would have been to tell you that my resignation would be on your desk tomorrow and please don't call me. But it wasn't, okay, I just rang to see how your night was."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," Neil said soothingly, hearing the catch in her voice that betrayed her stress and how upset she was and hating that there was nothing he could do. "I know it's rough, but it'll be okay. They just need time to get used to it, but they will."

"Yeah," Grace agreed tiredly. "Let's talk about something else, I don't want to think about this anymore."

"Okay," he replied easily. "So, got any plans for the weekend?"

An hour or so later, Grace hung up. She'd needed to speak with him, hear his voice, make sure they were on the same page. Rolling over, she pressed her face into his pillow and concentrated on letting her worry dissipate. She couldn't do anything about Max, or any of the others, and what they thought right now – so she might as well sleep.

No doubt she'd get another serve of opinions tomorrow.


	19. Balance of Power

**Author's Note: **Thanks, as always, for your feedback. This chapter takes place during the last few minutes of _Balance of Power_ and after the end of the episodes so...spoilers yonder! It's a bit longer than usual, but I couldn't find a good place to cut it, and I figure it'll help tide you all over for the next few days as I complete the last few chapters. As a brief summary for those who haven't seen the episode, but want to know what this chapter's about:

Max and Grace are partnered together for the day initially, but Neil soon kicks Max off the case after he walks out on a crime scene. Grace later makes a mistake, forcing Neil to reinstate Max. Max continues to criticise Grace over her error, until Neil snaps and lets him have it - in full view of CID much to Grace's discomfort. Max and Grace eventually confront the main suspect, and both are injured before Max manages to knock out the suspect. The following chapter begins partway through a conversation Neil and Grace have in the last scene of the episode.

* * *

"You over-reacted."

"No I didn't."

"Well, yeah, you did."

"Oh come on, Grace."

Grace sighed and turned away. "Look, can we just leave it?" Max's 'Mrs Manson' joke had set the tone for the entire day – nightmarish. Eddie had dismissed their relationship as 'all kinds of wrong'. She'd messed up. Big time. A fact which Max had taken great pains to point out.

She could've coped with all of that. The final straw was Neil not offering her the slightest bit of support. Instead, he'd kicked Max off the case – knowing exactly what Max would say about _that_ – before dressing her down about arresting Rory Walsh, and then, to cap it all off, he'd just gone after Max in full view of a crowded CID! Neil had said she would be in charge of this process, but it seemed he just couldn't help getting his over-large, clumsy size 10s all over it, and that concerned her. Grace wanted what they did to be a compromise and not Neil doing what he did at work: picking and choosing what ideas of hers he liked without involving her in how he implemented it. As much as she loved him, she wasn't playing subordinate in her personal life to the same person she played subordinate to in her professional life.

"No I won't leave it. Max was totally out of order. And I won't let him talk to you like that," Neil's voice was passionate, almost angry. Grace turned around, prepared to tell him off. He _couldn't _intervene on her behalf at work. "I won't let him talk to the woman I love –"

Grace felt her heart thud to a sudden stop. Her anger began to dissipate, replaced by a warm, gooey feeling as her eyes snapped up to his.

He _really _had just said it, they both realised at the same time.

_Ah_, he mouthed, looking down. He'd intervened for a reason unique to Grace, and that was on the List of Things He Wasn't Allowed to Do. Grace nodded as he turned around with a sigh and apology and leant back against her car, looking down. She tried and failed to repress the wide smile that just kept creeping over her lips as her heart restarted, pounding crazily: he _loved_ her.

_Real smooth, Neil_, he couldn't help but think to himself, keenly aware of Grace's presence next to him. It was obviously beyond him to choose an appropriate time in their relationship (so as to not scare her off) or to say it romantically. Instead, barely a month after he'd asked her out there he was, standing in the station carpark blurting out his love for her during the middle of their first fight. Great. He couldn't help but chuckle at his own ineptness, glad when he looked up to see that Grace was smiling at him warmly and a little embarrassedly [and not running as fast and as far as she could].

"Come on," he said, pushing himself away from the car and leading the way back inside. "You know what? It's going to be okay."

"Yeah, it is," her words were laced with affection, and Neil felt a thrill go up his spine as she quickly reached out and squeezed his arm. "We still need to talk though, Neil. Over dinner, at yours?"

"See you 7.30," Neil replied quietly as he opened the door for them.

* * *

"Hey," Grace greeted with a tight smile as he opened the door to her, oven mitts slung over a shoulder.

"Hi," Neil shut the door behind her and lead the way to the kitchen. "I hope crumbed chicken, mashed potatoes and steamed vegetables is okay."

"Sounds and smells fantastic," Grace complimented, entering the kitchen to find he'd already served everything. He picked up the plates carried them to the dining room where two glasses of wine stood.

By unspoken agreement, they spoke about inconsequential matters as they ate: paperwork, the construction on Gray Street, the latest silly exploits of uniform. Finally, as Neil rose and took their plates to rinse in the sink, they lapsed into silence, the tension that had been present all night reaching a critical point.

"Okay," Neil said, returning to the table. "Let's go through today."

Grace nodded, taking a sip of wine as she sorted out her thoughts and planned what she was going to say.

"You can't take action based on fly-away comments, Neil," she said, starting at the beginning of the day. "I mentioned _in passing_ Max hadn't stayed to hear Eddie out, but you can't kick him off the case for that! It just makes the entire thing worse."

"I have a responsibility to ensure that the case is receiving the appropriate attention," Neil disagreed evenly. "If Max wasn't interested in taking the case seriously – and that means hearing Eddie out, no matter how protracted Eddie's explanations are – then he shouldn't be on it."

"But how much of that decision was based on the comment Max made about telling tales, and how much was based on him walking out?" Grace asked perceptively. "Hey? Kicking him off the case entirely was an overreaction."

Neil looked away, unable to meet her eyes. He'd originally intended to just scold Max, but the comment about 'telling tales' had irked him. It was poor management, he was forced to admit to himself, because he'd then had to reinstate Max on the case.

"Neil?" Her tone was familiar, but he'd rarely heard it outside the interrogation room.

"I was right to discipline him," Neil said firmly, forestalling her from replying by raising a hand. "I was right to discipline him on what you said, but I probably shouldn't have kicked him off the case."

"Well, the solution to that's simple," Grace said pointedly. "I just won't –"

"If there's a problem with one of CID," Neil interrupted loudly. "It needs to be dealt with!"

"Neil, I can't come to you every time I have a personality problem with someone else!" Grace's voice rose. "It will just make things worse for both of us!"

"Fine, but you have to go to Jack or Smithy, hell, go to Jo!" Neil snapped back. "If there's a problem with the commitment of one of the officers assigned to an investigation that needs to be dealt with!"

"Fine," Grace said through gritted teeth.

"Fine," Neil replied in the same manner. They glared at each other for a long moment, before Grace sighed.

"The fact that neither of us are entirely happy about that conclusion means it's probably correct," Grace commented wryly, eliciting a strained chuckle from Neil.

"Promise me?" he asked more gently, reaching over and touching her hand. Grace nodded, flipping her hand over to squeeze his firmly. "Okay, next."

"I made a mistake today that almost jeopardised the case irretrievably," she said, hating to admit it. "But you can't protect me from that – if I make a mistake, that's that. You certainly can't then go after Max and chew him out. Max does always do that, he never lets an opportunity go to criticise, but in the past Neil, you've always just told him quietly to shut up. Today…it's been a long time since you've lost it properly like that, Jake excluded."

"Normally I only tell him quietly to shut up because he doesn't usually carry on like that," Neil said, watching his words. "He was targeting you specifically and maliciously because of us, and I won't let that happen."

He very carefully did not repeat his words in the car park, for which Grace was grateful. This argument wasn't about whether or not they loved each other: it was about whether or not they could be involved romantically and still work together. It was about whether they could withstand the scrutiny and criticism of them – even if one person looked elsewhere for work, the mere fact of their relationship would compromise Grace's record while she had served under him, and Neil's judgment would be questioned. No matter how much Grace loved him, or he loved her (and his admission continued to send a warm thrill through her), their relationship had to work on an equal and trusting platform.

"Neil," Grace sighed, rubbing her forehead. "People are going to do that. I'm going to have to work harder and better than the rest of them in order to reach the same level because I _am_ seeing the boss. There will be gossip, and innuendo, and everything, you _know_ that. All we can do is minimise the impact of our relationship on everyone else, which means you cannot lose it like that on my behalf."

"I don't like that," Neil said stubbornly, staring at the table. "It's reverse discrimination: I'd have protected Stevie from that...put yourself in my shoes–"

"But not in that way, Neil," Grace forced herself to keep the volume of her voice steady as exasperation bled through. "You wouldn't have gone off like that for Stevie."

"Part of that is because of her equal position with Max," Neil justified weakly. "She's a DS, she has to be able to stand up for herself –"

"And because of my relationship with you, you need to treat me like that. You need to protect me less than you would another DC," Grace pounced on the weak excuse. "I appreciate that you want to protect me, but I _don't _need it and you _can't_ do it without making everything a thousand times worse!"

"Fine," Neil agreed reluctantly after a tense moment. "But my right to intervene is still present. If anyone is treating you like that I will intervene."

"But no more than you would for Stevie," Grace pressed. Neil sighed, nodded, and dutifully repeated her words. There was another pause.

"The mistake you made today…" Neil began, somewhat cautiously.

"Yes, I realise I needed to go through the bank records," Grace said quickly, eager not to have Neil turn into the DI on her.

"No," Neil shook his head. "We needed to follow up that lead on Rory. You _should_ have come to me, if you couldn't get a hold of Stevie. Grace, I need to know that operationally, you'll come to me. If it's legitimate, like that was, nobody would've said anything about me assigning more officers to the investigation. I need to know where _all _my officers are, and I need to be the one who, with the SIO, determines the importance of leads to follow up."

Grace sighed, feeling the positions reverse somewhat. While she'd been right about him overreacting, he was right about this. "You're right," she reluctantly admitted. "If there are operational problems, I'll come to you, but you have to deal with them impartially."

"Good," Neil nodded, before grudgingly adding, "I'm sorry I lost it at Max."

"And I'm sorry that I got stressed about us and didn't come to you," Grace apologised.

There was an awkward pause.

"So," Grace said, breaking the silence.

"So," Neil repeated. "Our first fight."

"Yeah," Grace sighed, looking at the man across the table from her and absently stroking his hand.

"What?" Neil asked, seeing a smile start to tug at her lips.

"Just thinking, one good thing about fighting," Grace said, getting up from her chair and moving around the table to stand in front of him. She leant down to his eye level with a sultry smile. "The make up sex."

Neil smiled lopsidedly, getting to his feet and leaning down and passionately meeting her lips as he pulled her tightly against him. Grace immediately hooked her arms around his neck, kissing him back almost aggressively until...

"Ow," she drew back, rubbing her jaw. She'd iced it again when she'd got home, but evidently that didn't stop it hurting when kissed _that _fiercely.

"You okay?" Neil asked, drawing back. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Grace assured him, making eye contact again. They both laughed at the absurdity of the situation, and more tension drained away. "Just...restrict yourself to the non-bruised side..."

"I like the way you think," he said with a wry smile and a wink, kissing her gently again as he tugged her to his bedroom.

* * *

Nestled up together after what had been a truly remarkable session of make-up sex, Grace was absently drawing on his chest when she felt Neil start to shift beneath her.

"What is it?" she asked lazily as he propped himself up so that he could look directly at her.

"I … What I said earlier," Neil said haltingly. "I don't want you to think that I just said that to get out of trouble with you. It's not, I mean, we agreed to go slowly and it's not really slow if you tell someone, well, if you tell someone that only a month into dating them and I didn't mean – I didn't mean to say it. But I did mean it." At those words Grace was sure her heart stopped pounding entirely, and she couldn't quite remember how to breathe. Neil himself took a deep, shaky breath before looking directly into her eyes with his warm and nervous dark brown eyes. "I love you."

Grace's hand moved to caress his cheek, seemingly of its own accord as she melted into a puddle of mindless goo under his dark gaze. She curled her hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down to meet her lips in a tender kiss. Drawing back, she took a deep breath of her own and looked directly back into his eyes. "Neil, I love you."

"Yeah?" a slow, shy and more-than-slightly dopey smile spread across his face.

"Yeah," Grace felt the same smile spread across her face as Neil dipped his head and kissed her gently. "We're rubbish at taking this slowly," she said self-deprecatingly as the kiss ended. "By no standards could lying in bed confessing our love for each other after a month of seeing each other be considered 'taking it slowly'."

Neil laughed against her lips, looking down at her tenderly. "A month and two days," he corrected, mock-pompously. A roguish glint came to his eye. "Know what?"

"What?" Grace humoured him.

"Well, we've had wildly-passionate-ripping-each-other's-clothes-off sex, sleepy early morning sex, comforting couch sex, late-night-after-a-long-day-at-work sex, make-up sex, so I think we're about due some I-love-you sex, don't you?" he asked hopefully, playing with strands of her hair.

Grace laughed, and pulled him down for another tenderly passionate kiss.

"I love you," drawing back for air, their words were simultaneous and followed by light-hearted laughter as Neil let his lips return to hers.


	20. Invitations

**Author's Note: **Thanks again for all your support!

* * *

Grace awoke suddenly, feeling cold and somewhat pleasantly achy from the previous night's activities. Stretching and opening her eyes, she blearily squinted at the clock, groaning to herself when she realised it was only 5.30 am. She didn't start work until 9am and so didn't need to be awake for another two hours at least.

She realised belatedly that the reassuring sound of Neil's breathing was absent, and sure enough, when she rolled over she was greeted with an empty bed. Wide awake at this point, she decided to go and find him.

He looked adorable; socked feet propped up on his coffee table, wearing a disreputable and shapeless old grey jumper as he studied a report closely, tapping his pen against his teeth. The TV was turned on, but the sound turned all the way down to provide only a background hum as some bizarre late-night animal documentary played. Neil was so engrossed in his report that he didn't even realise she was there until she sank into the couch with a sigh and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Hi, sweetheart," he greeted warmly and lazily, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. The rare endearment sent a warm thrill through her. "Did I wake you?"

"No," Grace mumbled, tilting her head up so her chin rested on his shoulder. "Not getting out of bed you didn't. But I think maybe you should try doing your reports at night and coming to bed when you're done – I like waking up with you there."

Neil glanced down to look at her directly. "So do I," he replied easily. "We'll give it a try from now on then."

"What time are you picking up Jake again?" Grace asked, dropping her head back down and snuggling more comfortably into his side as he wrapped an arm around her.

"About 10am," Neil replied. Philippa was heading to Spain a few days earlier so she could go on some cruise with Liam or something. Neil had jumped at the opportunity to have Jake a bit longer, and so was taking off Thursday and Friday.

Realising he should probably mention his conversation with Jake the previous weekend, Neil coughed slightly and set his report down.

"What?" Grace asked, sitting up as he shifted to face her.

"So Jake and I were talking last weekend," Neil said, pausing as he considered best way to bring the topic up. He decided the best approach would be to do what he'd done with Jake – be perfectly open and honest.

"You and Jake were talking…" Grace prompted.

"He mentioned that he'd like to meet you," Neil said bluntly, carefully watching his lover's expression. Surprise and faint pleasure were the first emotions, before what he could only describe as pure terror replaced them.

"Is he…" Grace struggled for words. "Is he okay with this? Was he serious? When –"

"Calm down, hey," Neil interrupted, laying a hand on her cheek. "Relax. He seemed serious, he's been okay with this. I just thought I'd let you know there's a very real possibility that he'll start pushing for a meeting this weekend, and I wanted to know how you feel about that."

"I'd love to meet him," Grace said honestly, looking down and picking a wayward thread from his jumper. "Just…what if he doesn't like me?"

"He might take some time to warm up," Neil replied honestly. "But I think he'll love you because I love you."

"Sap," Grace's smile removed any potential sting from her words as she leant forward and kissed him gratefully.

"He's just as nervous as you," Neil assured her as she drew back. "And I'm probably more nervous than the pair of you put together."

He probably was too, Grace realised, studying his profile. He had the most to lose.

"Well, if he wants to meet me, then I guess we'll all just have to deal with our nervousness together," she said with a slight yawn. Neil murmured affirmatively.

"I'm back off to bed," she continued. "_Some_ of us have to go to work."

"Sleep well," Neil wished, leaning in and kissing her gently. "I love you."

Grace felt herself smile stupidly back. "I love you too," she said, standing and ruffling his hair before heading back upstairs.

* * *

Grace entered CID characteristically early to find Jo idly chatting to Banksy as she leaned against her desk.

"Morning," Grace greeted, dropping her coffee on her desk.

"That's a nasty one," Jo breathed sympathetically as she caught sight of the bruise on Grace's jaw.

"It's no big deal," Grace shrugged. Truthfully, it hurt like hell. Neil had made her ice it in the morning [when she woke up the second time], but it still ached. She couldn't help but feel like a bit of an idiot as her lips curved upwards at the very thought of him, and she immediately looked down and schooled her face into an impassive expression. Realising Jo had continued to talk, Grace quickly focussed back on her friend.

"…meant to see you yesterday, after I heard, but you'd disappeared by the time I could hand custody over to Callum," Jo concluded.

"Yeah, just felt like getting home and going straight to bed," Grace lied, without thinking of her word choice. Wincing as she realised what they'd taken away from her comment, she forced herself not to squirm as Banksy smirked suggestively and Jo looked faintly ill. "And _rest_."

Grace opened the first file on her desk, eager to ignore her co-workers but was interrupted by Stevie and Terry's arrival by her desk, adding to the small knot around her.

"Why's the DI got today off, then?" Stevie raised her eyebrows teasingly at Grace. "Smithy just mentioned to me that the guv's got today and tomorrow off. You seemed pretty upset with him yesterday - is he still recovering?"

Banksy promptly choked on his coffee, and Grace once again thanked whoever was listening for the dark complexion that disguised her blush.

"Grace?" Stevie prompted, and Grace winced, feeling uncomfortable as she felt four pairs of eyes boring holes in her.

"Look, guys," she swivelled around in her chair with a sigh. "I know this is…complicated…but I think the best thing that we can do is to separate our personal and professional lives: yesterday notwithstanding. So, please, I won't answer those questions, and please don't ask them."

"That's fair enough," Terry said understandingly, glaring at the others as if to dare them to pry further.

"What happened yesterday?"Jo asked curiously. Grace groaned, returning to her examination of the file in front of her with renewed vigour.

"The DI absolutely lost his head with Max," Stevie said somewhat gleefully.

Grace saw Jo throw a glance in her direction through her peripheral vision, but studiously ignored it, instead, glancing back up at her screen and beginning to type furiously.

"What happened?" Banksy demanded, abandoning all pretence of working.

"Max was being a prick," Terry said bluntly, his displeasure bleeding through. "He was hassling Grace non-stop most of the morning. Anyway, the DI snapped in the afternoon and let him have it. You should've seen Max's face – it's been a while since he was so thoroughly put in his place."

"Told him to 'just back off'," Stevie continued. "It was very sweet."

"Awww," Banksy said with a shit-eating grin, and Grace knew that her blush would be visible (probably from outer space) and resorted to Plan B: pretending that she was deaf.

"Speak of the devil," Terry muttered, spotting Max limping slightly on his way into CID. Dressed in his suit for court, he paused by his desk opposite Grace and rifled through the stack of folders for the one he wanted.

"Still sore, Sarge?" Grace asked politely, with a friendly smile. Max glanced at her in surprise.

"Not that bad," he dismissed. Gesturing awkwardly to her jaw, he asked, "You?"

"Not that bad," Grace mimicked.

"Good," Max half-smiled, finding the file he wanted and waving it at her. "Enjoy the paperwork."

"Good luck in court," Grace replied.

"Thanks," Max nodded to her, before limping back out of CID.

Terry burst out laughing.

"Well, it obviously worked," he said with a grin. Jo nudged her teasingly.

"Oh, leave it," Grace groaned.

"All right," the Superintendant's voice echoed around CID. "DI Manson has taken today and tomorrow off to spend time with his son. DS Carter's in court today, so any questions, come to me or DS Moss."

His sharp gaze landed on the group of officers around Grace and Banksy's desks, and he frowned disapprovingly. "Just because the DI's out doesn't mean you can stop working, get to it!"

"Yes boss," Terry mumbled, and Grace let a sigh of relief escape her lips as everyone scuttled off to their own desks and work.

* * *

"Does Grace like bowling?" Jake asked, glancing over his shoulder as he peeled potatoes in the sink. He was helping Dad cook tea tonight.

"I've never asked her, Jake," Dad replied, looking up from where he was slicing carrots.

"Maybe on Saturday we could go bowling with her," Jake suggested shyly.

Looking back on it now, Jake could see that his parents had reacted very differently to the divorce. Mum had started dating again almost immediately, but Dad had just worked more. He'd worked really hard on the case of the missing girl, so much so that sometimes Jake had felt like Amy Tennant was more Dad's child than he himself was!

It was the first time his dad had dated, to his knowledge, since the divorce. Jake had thought for a little while that Dad and Suzie were dating, but Dad had quickly corrected him, saying that he and Suzie were just good friends. Suzie had backed him up when Jake had asked her later. So, he knew that this new girlfriend was very important to Dad, because it was the first one he'd mentioned.

"If you really are comfortable, Jakey," Dad said slowly. Jake turned around, dumping the potato peeler in the sink and carefully carrying the dripping potato to Dad to chop up (he wasn't allowed to use the sharp knives). "Then I could call her and see if she's free."

"In the afternoon, just after lunch," Jake said quickly. "So I'm not too tired from the medicine."

"Okay," Dad nodded, setting the knife down. "It's a plan!"

"Call her now," Jake commanded. Dad smiled lopsidedly, dried his hands on the kitchen towel, and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

"Hi, Grace, it's me," he said gently. "You free? Okay."

"What?" Jake whispered when Dad paused.

"She's just in the middle of cooking tea as well," Dad told him. "She's just going to wash her hands because they're covered in sauce."

"Oh, okay. Hey, put her on speaker," Jake suggested impulsively.

"Grace, you back? Okay, I'm going to put you on speaker, okay?" Dad said, moving the phone away from his ear and changing the setting. "You're on speaker now."

"Okay," Grace's voice came through the speakers. "Hi, Jake."

All right, so maybe he hadn't thought this through, Jake realised as his stomach started to flip.

"Hi," he said nervously, leaning forward to the phone. What did he say? "Um, how are you?"

"I'm good thanks," her voice was kind, he decided, and very calming. That was good, Dad needed to calm down a lot. "And how was your day?"

"It was good," Jake said, glancing up at Dad who nodded encouragingly. "Me and Dad played games."

"Lucky you! I was stuck at work all day. So what games did you play and who won?" Grace sounded jealous, and Jake grinned.

"I did, of course!" he announced triumphantly. Dad coughed.

"That's not quite true," he took care to correct.

"That one didn't count!"

"Yes it did!"

Grace's laughter interrupted their argument. Jake stopped, and out of things to say, waved at Dad pointedly.

"Anyway, Grace," Dad cleared his throat, taking charge of the conversation. "We're just calling to see if maybe you would be free on Saturday to go bowling?"

"Saturday afternoon," Jake added quickly.

"Sounds like fun!" Grace said, obviously a little pleased and a little nervous at the same time. Jake beamed.

"Cool," Jake said, pleased. He headed back to the sink and began peeling potatoes again as Dad and Grace sorted out the details.

Saturday it was.


	21. Bowling

**Author's Note:** Thanks again to everyone who takes the time to review! :) And for the record - the bowling mishaps in this chapter have all actually happened to me or a family member and are incredibly embarrassing and amusing at the same time.

* * *

Jake's stomach was churning uncomfortably, and he tightened his grip on Dad's hand as they entered the bowling alley. He hoped that Grace was nice and that she would like him, but all he could remember was the myriad of stories about evil stepmothers.

Jake spotted her stand up in the café area, recognising her from the photo he'd studied. Dad saw her at the same time, and made his way straight over. He kissed her on the cheek before pulling Jake around in front of him.

"Jake, this is Grace," Dad introduced. "Grace, this is Jake."

Feeling the reassuring weight of his dad's hands on his shoulders, Jake remembered all the lectures he'd had on manners from his mum and dad, and shyly stuck his hand out.

"Pleased to meet you," he said, determined to sound confident. Grace had a naturally serious face, but that wasn't really unusual in his weird family [Mum, Liam and Dad could all be pretty serious, Dad the most of course] so Jake decided to ignore it.

"Pleased to meet you too," she said, shaking his hand. Grace smiled at him, and Jake felt a little relieved to see that she was a little nervous too. Her handshake was everything Dad said a handshake should be: warm, firm, but not too hard, and not yucky and clammy. As they released each other's hands, Jake quickly tugged his Leukaemia Cap (as he and Dad had dubbed it. It was also called the Lampard Cap) back to make sure it covered his head properly. His hair hadn't grown back fully and evenly, there were still these weird patches, and his ears looked funny so he was determined to keep it covered as much as possible.

"Well, shall we go get our shoes?" Neil suggested before the pause became awkward. Jake breathed a sigh of relief and nodded. Taking his dad's hand again, the three of them walked up to the counter and sorted out their shoes.

Jake tried to watch Grace without being weird and staring at her. Jake couldn't really call her pretty, but she was…he'd read in a book that people could be referred to as striking, and that seemed to fit even if he wasn't entirely sure what it meant.

"Who goes first?" Dad asked as they reached their lane and started pulling shoes on.

"Age order!" Jake claimed immediately. "Youngest to oldest, so you're last."

Grace laughed, and Dad looked uncomfortable. "I'm actually older than your dad," she admitted shyly.

Oops. "Really?" Jake said, somewhat sceptically as he looked between them. She didn't look it. Jake thought she looked a bit younger than Mum, not as many lines on her face.

"Really really," Grace affirmed.

"How old are you?"

"Jake, you never ask a lady her age," Dad hissed disapprovingly, looking embarrassed.

"Don't be silly, Neil," Grace dismissed Dad's concerns. That was good. Jake had never understood that whole 'don't as a lady how old she is' thing. How was it offensive to ask a simple question? "I've just turned forty-one, Jake. Pretty old, aren't I?"

"A little more than four times older than me," he said, trying to be polite and knowing _this_ was a mine-field. "But you don't look three years older than him," Jake said, critically looking at his father.

"Thanks, son," Neil said sarcastically as Grace grinned.

"I haven't actually bowled before," Grace told them both somewhat shyly. "So you might need to give me a few pointers."

"That's all right!" Jake said with a grin.

"Yeah, it'll give him a chance of beating someone," Neil teased, grinning as Jake punched him in the shoulder.

"Ignore him," Jake asked firmly, turning back to Grace. "All right, first what we need to do is all of us need to get the balls. So you want one which your fingers fit in comfortably, and can slide out. Otherwise it might get stuck, like that time we went bowling with Aunty Sarah and them and Angus got his fingers stuck and we had to borrow butter from the restaurant there to get them out."

"That's awful!" Grace said through laughter. Jake grinned and nodded. Some five minutes later, they arrived back at their lane, having selected balls (and having had no mishaps along the way).

"Okay, so you hold the bowling ball like this," Jake said, demonstrating as he held his green ball against his chest.

"Jake, how about you show her as you take your first bowl?" Neil suggested. Jake nodded, and went up to the lane.

"And then you bring your arm down slowly," Jake instructed seriously, "as you run forward then you let it go."

As Jake watched his ball head, wobbling, towards the pins, Neil leaned over to speak into her ear.

"He's missed a few steps, like aiming it…" Neil's voice had a joking tone. "But otherwise he's right. Just look at the arrows in the lane and try to aim for the middle."

Grace watched Neil enviously as he stood and took his turn, smoothly sliding the dark blue ball down to knock down seven pins and then two pins on the second bowl – to Jake's disappointment. [He'd only managed to get six down].

"Remember what I said," Jake told her bossily after Neil began to turn back. "It's easy!"

Grace smiled at him gratefully, picked her ball up and went forward. She felt extremely self-conscious as she tried to move smoothly in the run-up, certain she looked like an idiot. Still, her orange ball didn't wobble that much more than Jake's and she managed to knock down five of the pins.

"Good work," Neil congratulated her.

"You sure you haven't done this before?" Jake asked suspiciously.

"Never in my life," she replied honestly, picking her ball up as it returned to the top of their lane.

She promptly proved her statement on the next frame. Grace felt heartened by her earlier relative success (success being defined as remaining upright - the floor and shoes were incredibly slippery) and decided to try and bowl faster. Releasing the ball, she frowned in momentary puzzlement when she didn't see it travel down the lane. Turning, her face flushed as she saw the ball slowly rolling backwards towards the Manson boys.

Neil burst into uproarious laughter at the confused look on her face. Jake, reprieved of an obligation to be polite and not laugh, quickly succumbed to his own laughter, falling into his father.

"How on earth did that happen?" Grace asked in honest embarrassment and confusion, quickly scooping up the ball.

"Your face," Neil choked unhelpfully, face reddening. She'd never seen him laugh like that before, so openly and spontaneously, and his amusement was infectious despite her embarrassment.

"Thanks for the support," she said in mock-offence, smiling and giggling self-consciously. Wiping tears from his eyes, Neil waved his hand.

"Go on, try again," he said encouragingly.

* * *

Bowling had been a great idea, Neil decided, twenty minutes later. There was an activity to keep from having to concentrate on making conversation, but there was enough time for everyone to talk between turns. Neil had deliberately concentrated on bowling in as silly a manner as possible; to keep the atmosphere light and take the attention off Grace's earlier...misadventure (how _had_ she ended up having the ball move backwards?).

It seemed to be working. The two people he loved most in the world had lost a fair bit of their initial shyness, but they were still a little awkward with each other. Fortunately for his peace of mind, they seemed to be getting along well, and he hadn't gotten any _please help me!_ signals from either of them.

"So, let's look at the scoreboard, and oh, look who's won!" Neil announced. His competitive side hadn't been fully suppressed, and he couldn't help but rub it into his son's face a little. "Oh, look, it's Dad on 108 points! Well ahead of Jake on 95 points, and Grace, 84 points isn't a bad show at all for your first time!"

"Let's play again," Jake grimaced at the scoreboard. "Grace and I will show you who's boss! Won't we?"

"Absolutely," Grace's own competitiveness emerged as she narrowed her eyes at Neil. "I think I'm getting the hang of it now."

Neil chuckled and headed up to the counter.

Grace looked over to see Jake's serious blue eyes regarding her. Every time she looked at him, it gave her a bit of a jolt because however much he acted, sounded or looked like Neil, she knew that his blue eyes came from Neil's ex-wife. As the silence stretched on, she felt she ought to say something to reassure him.

"This is a little weird, hey?" she said with a crooked smile.

"Yeah," Jake nodded. He wasn't really sure what to say, so he settled for rolling his bowling ball in the return chute. "So I guess you're going to be my new mum."

He was surprised Dad hadn't mentioned it at all. When Mum had introduced Liam, she'd excitedly told him beforehand that she hoped Liam would be his new dad. During their first meeting Liam had made a similar comment, and Jake thought that was probably the main reason he didn't like Liam as he might otherwise have done. Liam was pretty cool after all: he had a big house, he was cool, he drove a nice car, but Liam also tried too hard to be his dad. Grace hadn't done that yet though.

He watched Grace carefully, but she just looked surprised before frowning.

"Why would you think that?" she asked gently.

"Because you're Dad's new girlfriend," Jake replied, barely holding back from saying that he wasn't stupid. Honestly. Adults.

"You already have a mum, Jake," Grace said, shaking her head. "I know that nobody can ever replace her, and neither your Dad nor I would want to change that even if we could. I would like to be your friend though."

Jake studied her closely, but she met his gaze calmly. She seemed honest, and Jake had to admit that he liked the way she spoke to him – she didn't talk down to him like a lot of adults did, and she didn't treat him like a little kid like Liam did sometimes. She spoke to him like Dad spoke to him (when he wasn't in trouble, that is).

"I'd like that," he said finally, and smiled shyly at her. Grace smiled back.

"But," Jake figured this was a good time to test her. "On one condition."

"Oh yeah?" Grace raised an eyebrow.

"This is very important," he said seriously, frowning deeply. "What football team do you support?"

The faintest hints of a smile appeared around Grace's mouth. "I've never really got into football, I'm afraid," she said apologetically.

"Well, you'll just have to support mine and Dad's team then," Jake decided with a nod. A thought struck him. "You do know who Frank Lampard is though, right?"

"His was the goal disallowed against Germany, wasn't it?" she asked cautiously. "I remember seeing that."

"That's right!" in his relief, Jake had pulled off his cap and shown her the signature before he realised that he'd exposed his hair. "Dad got me his signature, see?"

"Cool," Grace nodded, admiring the signature before handing the cap back.

Jake immediately jammed it on his head, but it seemed he didn't need to have worried. Grace hadn't stared at his hair, she hadn't looked horrified, she'd just ignored it. As Dad came back, Jake decided he quite liked her.

"Reverse age order this time!" she announced with a wink at Jake. "I'll need the help!"

* * *

By the end of their second game it became very apparent that Jake was beginning to tire: he didn't take as long a run-up, and he dropped the ball more than threw it. Neil had warned her, but it was still slightly shocking to be confronted with a ten year old boy who was tired out by two-and-a-half hours of bowling.

"All right," Neil said as Jake bowled his last ball. "Shall we make a move?"

Jake simply nodded. As they cleared up their area, he clung to his father's hand.

"It was really nice to meet you, Jake," Grace said gently as they got outside. "Thank you both for a great afternoon."

"Even if you lost," Neil teased light-heartedly. Jake smiled half-heartedly at his dad's joke as Grace rolled her eyes.

It had been a fun afternoon. It was nice to have some 'family' time with Dad – while he'd spent more time one on one with him, Dad had been a lot more relaxed with Grace there. And she'd been nice, and listened to him, and laughed at his jokes, all without seeming like she was trying too hard to be his friend.

"It was a little weird at first," Jake admitted to her with a shy smile. "But, you know, good weird."

Grace's face lit up, and she and Dad exchanged a _look_. "I'm really glad, Jake," she said warmly, offering her hand to shake.

Jake grinned and shook her hand firmly. "I'll see you soon?"

"I'd like that," Grace replied to the half-question with a smile. She looked up to Dad. "I'll see you on Monday, Neil."

"Yeah, drive safe," Dad leant in and kissed her on the cheek in farewell before they moved away.


	22. Turned Tables

**Author's Note: **Some turning of tables! Thanks as always for your thoughts and comments, they are appreciated and noted! :)

* * *

"Grace speaking," Grace paused the movie she was watching, and answered the phone.

"Hey, it's me."

"Hi, 'me'," Grace said lightly, recognising his voice immediately.

"How did you feel about today?" Neil asked.

"He's a really sharp kid, Neil, and very sweet," Grace answered honestly. "How did he – did he say anything to you?"

"Jake was a little shy, still," Neil acknowledged. "I don't know what you said, but he mentioned something about it being way nicer than meeting Liam."

"He asked if I was going to be his new mum," Grace explained. "And I said that he already had one and I hoped that he and I could be friends."

"Well, he appreciated that," Neil said after a short pause. "I told him at the beginning when he asked… but I guess he wanted to hear it from you as well."

"Probably," Grace hesitated.

"What?" He knew her far too well.

"You remember Thomas Sands?" she blurted out.

"Yeah, of course," he sounded confused and surprised.

"You interviewed him," Grace said. "I…you were the better choice."

"Because of the Lego…Grace, where is this going?"

"I just…what do I have in common with a ten year old boy? I mean, I can interview children. I've done courses to get information out of them, but how do I relate to him?" Grace realised she sounded a little panicked, and forced herself to stop. "I mean, I thought it would be okay, I'd know what to say but I just … I had no idea what…apart from you, what do we have in common?"

"Jake understands that you don't need to have heaps in common to be friends," Neil said calmly. "But you do have overlapping interests – you're both really into reading. You enjoyed Harry Potter, didn't you? Jake loves that series to bits. Just relax and be yourself."

"Yeah," Grace sighed, unconvinced.

"It went well today," Neil assured her. "Jake likes you. He's curious about you. He wants to know you better – I'd say that's a good outcome."

"Yeah," Grace couldn't help but smile, feeling her spirits lift. "I guess… I mean, you and I … we just clicked right away."

"That's because I was more than halfway in love with you when we started dating," Neil said lightly.

"Just a shame you were such a wimp," Grace sighed melodramatically to cover the intense pleasure his words gave her. "And for the record, I fancied you first."

"Whatever," he drawled.

"My sister's invited us over for dinner," Grace said after a comfortable pause.

"When?" his question was curt, his traditional response to stress.

"Monday night," Grace replied. "7.30."

"My turn to freak out, hey," he said with a nervous chuckle.

"Well, my parents…er…heard and they're going as well," a perverse pleasure filled her as she heard him squeak a little. He was adorable.

"Okay," his voice was higher than normal, and he coughed.

"You'll be fine, Neil," she assured him, unable to restrain a smile. "My, how the tables have turned!"

* * *

He yanked the door open, standing there in black slacks as he began buttoning his dark brown shirt.

"Not ready yet?" Grace asked in surprise as she entered.

"I was just changing the shirt," he explained sharply. "So I could wear a tie." He'd been snappy and touchy all day, and although Grace hated all the curious looks in her direction, she couldn't deny that it had been rather endearing to think of him working himself up into a state – especially after the stress she'd gone through meeting Jake. Anyway, she was beginning to find that he was actually relatively easy to calm down, a quick significant look and he'd quickly stopped himself from ripping shreds off Terry. [The flipside, of course, was how he'd work himself back up into a mild hysteria in her absences].

Looking around, Grace saw a light blue polo shirt draped over the stairway banisters and quickly worked out what had happened.

"Neil," she rested her hands on his as they fumbled with the buttons, stilling them immediately. "You don't need to wear a tie – it's just my parents."

"Just, you know, right impression," Neil muttered. "Should I wear the other one then?"

"No, you look good in brown," Grace assured him, leaning up and engaging her lips with his. He relaxed beneath her hands as she deepened the kiss. "It'll be fine," she assured him, drawing away and beginning to do up the buttons. "I love you, they'll love you."

"Love you too," he murmured as she finished the last one, leaning down and capturing her lips again briefly.

"Come on," she said, grabbing his hand. "We don't want to be late."

* * *

Neil resisted the urge to bounce from foot to foot as Grace rang the doorbell. It was opened almost immediately by a younger, plumper version of Grace he recognised as her sister.

"Anita," Grace greeted her warmly.

"Namaste, Grace," Anita embraced her sister immediately. Letting go, she immediately turned to Neil. "You must be Neil. I'm her sister, Anita."

"Neil Manson," Neil introduced himself, shaking her hand. "Pleased to meet you."

"Nice to meet you," Anita waved them in. "This is my husband, Ganesh." Ganesh was a tall, friendly, intelligent-looking man and he nodded congenially at Neil as he released Grace from a quick hug.

The two men shook hands, just as a stampede of small children landed on Grace.

"Kids get off, remember your manners," Anita scolded, lining the three up. "These are our three children, Priya, Anji and Ravi."

"Hi guys," Neil smiled. "I'm Neil."

"Hi," they chorused with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

"Ma and Pa not here yet?" Grace asked as the kids shuffled off to set the table under the stern direction of their father.

"Not yet," Anita confirmed. "Now, would you two like a drink? Wine, beer, water…"

"I'll have some of that white thanks," Grace replied.

"A beer would be great, thanks," Neil requested.

Sipping their drinks, Anita ushered them into the lounge just as the doorbell went again.

"Nana and Nani are here!" Ravi sped to the door, wrapping himself around his grandmother's legs.

Neil stood back somewhat awkwardly as Grace's parents hugged and kissed their way through the group. Finally, they reached him.

"Pa, Ma, this is Neil," Grace introduced, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

"Pleased to meet you, Mr and Mrs Dasari," Neil said politely.

"Good evening," Grace's father was stern, his handshake firm. He stood only a few inches shorter than Neil, although his presence was such that Neil felt a lot smaller. It was immediately obvious that Grace took after her father, both in looks in demeanour while Anita took after their mother.

"Anushri's told us so much about you," Mrs Dasari gushed, taking both of his hands in hers and kissing him on each cheek. "It's nice to finally put a face to the name."

Neil smiled awkwardly, unsure what to say.

"What's for dinner, Ma?" Grace rescued him, slipping her hand into his.

* * *

As the rest of the Dasari family eagerly set to bickering over the dishes spread across the dining table, Neil sat still, overwhelmed by the sheer number of curries to select from. Seeing his confusion, Grace nudged him.

"That one there is potato and cauliflower," she pointed quietly. "And that one there's pumpkin, and that's chicken curry. They're the least spicy, so maybe start with those." Neil nodded gratefully, and served himself a bit of each of them.

"Okay, take the chapati," Grace quietly instructed, tearing a piece of the bread-type food up herself. "And just scoop up a bit of it and eat it."

Neil obliged, trying some of the pumpkin first. His eyes grew wide – it was so superior to any of the Indian he'd ever tasted.

"Wow, this is fantastic," he praised immediately, preparing himself another big bite.

Mrs Dasari beamed. "It's not too spicy?"

"It's perfect," Neil grinned at her, some of the nervousness vanishing from his frame.

"What are you feeding him, Grace?" her mother asked disapprovingly a few minutes later as Neil shovelled food into his mouth as fast as was politely appropriate.

Grace rolled her eyes. "He feeds himself fine, Ma," she said defensively.

"We both work long hours so neither of us really have the opportunity to create such amazing meals," Neil supported her. Mrs Dasari swelled at the compliment.

"So, Grace tells us that you are her boss," Grace's father cut off the pleasant conversation in an eerily familiar disapproving tone.

"That's right, I'm her DI," Neil replied honestly, stiffening slightly.

"And you didn't think to consider the effect that being involved with you would have on my daughter's career?"

Despite preparing himself for the question, it was like a punch to the gut. The table went silent as even the kids picked up that the question was a delicate one.

"Pa, for heaven's sake," Grace snapped, glaring at her father. "_I've_ considered that, please don't treat me like a child."

"Come, Grace, I just want to know if this man," distrust dripped from his voice as her father stood his ground. "Has spared a thought for your reputation."

"Mr Dasari," Neil lightly touched Grace's wrist to forestall the angry retort. "I've worked with your daughter for over three years. The reason it took so long for us to start seeing each other was because of concerns like that: concerns that our working relationship would be compromised. Grace is an excellent officer: everyone who has worked with her will attest to that so I do not think there is reason to be concerned that her career will suffer unduly."

Seeing her father begin to retort, Anita stepped in smoothly with a significant glance at Grace.

"Grace mentioned you had a son," she said, trying to steer the conversation into less controversial grounds.

"That's right," Neil nodded, his manner softening a little.

"How old is he?" "What's his name?" "Does he like Lego?" The chorus of questions came from the right hand end of the table, where the children had been eagerly eavesdropping on the confrontation between their grandfather and their aunt's new boyfriend. Neil smiled despite himself, and some of the tension dissipated.

"His name is Jake, he's ten and a half, and he loves Lego," Neil answered, waving aside Anita's remonstrations to the children for interrupting the conversation.

"What does he look like?" the older girl, Priya, asked. Neil shifted, pulling out his wallet and plucking the well-worn photo of him out.

"This was taken about a year ago now," he told them, passing the photo to Anita to pass along.

"He's a handsome boy," Anita commented approvingly before passing the photo to the kids.

"Do you have custody of your son?" Mr Dasari re-entered the conversation, ignoring the warning look from his eldest daughter.

"At the moment my ex-wife does," Neil replied. "But I'll be getting custody of him by the end of August or beginning of September when he starts school."

"Why the change?" Ganesh, Anita's husband, entered the conversation for the first time.

"My ex-wife lives in Spain," Neil answered. "And it's best, for the moment, if Jake lives in England."

"Because of his leukaemia?" he simply nodded in response to Anita's hushed question, feeling Grace's hand slide under the table to rest lightly on his leg.

"What's leukaemia?" Anji asked innocently.

"A type of cancer." Grace could feel Neil tensing next to her as he answered shortly, and she squeezed his leg supportively.

"I thought cancer was for old people," Priya said in surprise. Neil's face tightened.

"People of any age can get cancer, honey," Ganesh told her gently.

"Is Jake gonna die?" Ravi's innocent question plunged the table into a stunned and mildly horrified silence. Neil swallowed heavily and let his hand fall off the table to grip Grace' hand tightly.

"He's getting better," he said with forced optimism.

"Good," Anji said with the firm nod of an eight year old as Neil received the photo back from Grace's family and carefully tucked it back into its place in his wallet. "He has a nice smile."

"So, Pa, Anita and I are thinking of buying a second house as an investment property," Ganesh quickly refocused the conversation with a quick nod to Neil.

"You okay?" Grace pounced on the temporary reprieve, whispering in his ear. "Sorry about that."

"He's six, it's okay," Neil murmured back, squeezing her hand. "I'm fine."

"I love you," Grace assured him quietly.

"Love you too," Grace smiled up at him, pulling their joined hands into her lap. Neil looked up, trying to banish a crooked smile when he met Mr Dasari's stern glare. He swallowed abruptly, automatically moving a bit further away from Grace who sighed and glared back at her father.

It was going to be a long evening.


	23. Pub Exchanges

**Author's Note:** Thanks again for the reviews! Not long to go now, two or three chapters at the most!

* * *

Neil groaned as he flopped, face-down on her bed still fully clothed.

"It wasn't that bad," Grace said with a smile, peering into the mirror on her dresser as she continued taking off her jewellery. A muffled response met her from the Neil-shaped lump. "Hon, I need you to, you know, annunciate your words…"

"I said that it didn't seem that bad to you because you weren't the one getting the third degree from your father," he said, turning his head to watch her.

Grace frowned. "Ignore him," she said with a hint of sharpness Neil recognised was not directed at him. "Anyway, I was just impressed at how you sat there and ate your way into my mother's heart."

Neil chuckled. "I'm set for the week," he said, pleased. Grace's mother had decided shortly after Ravi's innocent but difficult question that Neil needed to be fed properly. Raiding Anita's cabinets, Mrs Dasari had heaped a generous amount of curry into some old takeaway containers and pressed them into Neil's hands as he walked out the door. "Your mum's a fantastic cook."

"Yeah, she is," Grace admitted, repressing her bitterness as she picked up his pyjamas from the small and neatly folded pile of clothes he'd left at hers and threw them at him. "Go get changed."

Grace quickly undressed while he left to use the bathroom and sighed as she settled herself into her side of the bed. Grace knew she lacked the talent of her mother and Anita for household tasks: she couldn't cook like them, she couldn't sew, and, perhaps most importantly, she hadn't produced grandchildren for her mother. As if that pressure was not sufficient, lacking a son, Pa had put most of the expectations of a distinguished and glowing career onto her shoulders. Pulled in both directions, Grace sometimes felt keenly aware of her inadequacies: unable to fully satisfy either the mother who wanted a brood of grandchildren, or the father who longed for a son.

"Penny for 'em?" Neil bounced back onto the bed next to her, slipping under the blankets and wrapping an arm around her waist. Grace couldn't help but smile at him as he rested his chin on her shoulder and gazed up at her with what she could only characterise as puppy eyes (_dear Lord she had it bad!_). The discovery that her DI was a total cuddler continued to amuse her.

"I've met your son, you've met my family…seems there's another group of people we'll need to deal with soon," she half-lied, turning to the other issue she'd been considering lately. "Our colleagues."

"How do you mean?" Neil asked.

"We can't just keep avoiding the pub while the other person's there," Grace pointed out rationally. "I mean, I don't often go, but you used to go semi-frequently and you've barely been there at all for the past six months. Okay, so it was about Jake, but now it's about me, and…"

"Yeah, I understand," Neil sighed. "And I suppose we need to talk about social-work situations. I'm happy to do whatever you want to do, provided Carter doesn't make trouble."

She didn't have the energy to get back into that. "I think we should just act like we do at work," she said.

"But don't call me gov or sir," Neil replied immediately. "Not in social situations, ever."

"Yes boss," Grace quipped, earning herself a dark glare. "And leaving…I don't know. They'll all think we're leaving together, but I don't want to have to do that right away."

"Well, we're going to try me doing paperwork then coming to bed anyway," Neil noted. "So why don't you just leave me there, I'll stay until I'm tired, then I'll come home."

"Sounds like a plan," Grace agreed with a yawn. "We'll just wait until the next general invite to the pub, otherwise it'll be obvious we're trying to make a point."

There was a slight pause.

"This is ridiculous, planning it like this."

"Yeah," Neil brushed a lock of hair from her face and gently kissed her. "Worth it though. Night."

"Night night," Grace yawned again and draped herself across his chest as he leaned over to switch off the light.

* * *

It would be more than a week before that general invitation to the pub was extended, after a particularly gruesome Abel-and-Cain murder. It was one of the rare occasions where Grace really felt that she wanted to go and be with her team.

"Meet you downstairs once you're in civvies?" she asked Jo as the pair parted at the coffee machine. Jo nodded, and Grace continued up to her office.

A lot could happen in over a week. The most significant thing that had happened (apart from the fact that she and Neil had basically fully integrated themselves into the other's home) was that on Saturday she had been invited by none other than Jake Manson to watch a football match. For her 'education'. And he'd actually been the one to ring and ask her over: she'd not spoken to Neil at all during that call.

The football game had slotted in between their work moving Jake into Neil's house – the end of August and the new custody arrangements were fast approaching. The upcoming change in Neil's living situation was the main reason Grace had yet to freak out about the way they'd basically moved in together during the week: she knew it would take time to get Jake comfortable enough for her to spend nights over there [and it would have to be at his house for Jake's comfort].

Never one to be a fan of football, Grace couldn't honestly say that she had changed her mind about the game itself after watching it on Saturday. It had, however, been strangely enjoyable watching football with the Manson boys. Comfortably ensconced on the couch next to Neil, with his arm around her, Jake on Neil's other side had constantly and earnestly attempted to explain the rules and players to her [on the whole doing a very poor job because he was so frequently distracted by the game].

The boys had been generally loud and overly enthusiastic; shouting at the referee and players and spilling popcorn everywhere, but it had been home-y. Normal. And a damn sight better than her own empty flat.

* * *

"What could she possibly see in him," Eddie mumbled next to Banksy. CID had automatically congregated into a big group (plus Jo, who flitted back and forth to the uniform group at points) at one end of the bar. Everyone had studiously pretended not to be observing, with a dedication not seen on even the most important obbo, every move, glance and word made by Neil and Grace. The couple, who stood opposite each other, just as studiously ignored the close scrutiny.

They'd been unfailingly courteous and friendly to each other…and distant. The only difference in their behaviour was the lack of flirting. The mild flirting had been so constant that nobody had really noticed it until they'd stopped - at the time when their relationship had become public. In short, they were acting almost exactly like they usually (or previously had) acted in social situations.

And it was maddening.

Nobody, not even Jo it seemed, knew or could fully imagine how their relationship _worked_. They were both capable of such detachment it seemed somewhat surreal to entertain the suggestion that there was the slightest hint of passion in their relationship.

"Oh come on, Eddie, they don't want to make a scene," Banksy defended them quietly, although privately he was as eager as anyone to see how Neil-and-Grace were as a couple.

"Bollocks," Stevie called him on it, equally quietly. "You're as eager as the rest of us to see them getting it on."

"Not I," Eddie made a face. "I'm eating!"

"You're always eating," Jo laughed, causing the others in the group to look over in confusion.

As she did so, Grace yawned for the third time in as many minutes. Setting her drink down, she smiled at everyone. "Time for me to call it a night, I think," she commented lightly. "See you all tomorrow."

Everyone's attention fixed on Neil's reply.

"Night," he said casually. Stevie could have screamed in frustration as everyone else echoed his farewell. Neil took a sip of his drink, not even watching as Grace walked out the door. Stevie felt a sneaking suspicion that he was finding a kind of perverse enjoyment in stringing them all along.

"Neil, was it this Thursday or next Jake's got his interview?" Smithy interrupted the détente, quickly pulling Neil out of earshot of CID.

"This Thursday," Neil replied. "Why?"

"Oh, Callum's out Thursday morning, you know, with his dad," Smithy sighed. "With the Super at the Yard until late –"

"Yeah, yeah," Neil nodded. "Jake's interview's not until 2pm, so I'll cover the morning if you want."

"It's not a problem or anything –"

"Mate, I can get a babysitter for Thursday morning. All the boy'll be doing is unpacking his stuff into his room anyway, and he needs to start getting used to having a babysitter occasionally," Neil assured him.

"What about you, Banksy?" Terry's voice interrupted Banksy's attempts to eavesdrop. "Tenner on how long it takes the DI to hurry after Grace?"

"Twenty minutes," Banksy picked, just as Smithy thanked Neil and moved away.

"All right, you and Stevie have the same time," Terry noted, collecting the pound notes from everyone.

Nearly two hours later, Banksy shook his head in disbelief as Neil _finally _bid everyone farewell.

"Well there goes that theory that he's going home to her," he muttered.

"Proving yet again that that man has nerves of _steel_," Mickey shook his head, impressed.

"He could have," Stevie sounded dubious. "Gone home to her."

"Like Grace's going to sit around for two hours waiting for him to arrive back," Jo sniffed derisively.

"Yeah," Terry concurred. "And he didn't glance at the clock, I mean, if you'd set a time gap beforehand, you'd spend a lot of time watching the clock to see whether you could go yet, right?"

"That's a good point." "Yeah."

"Talk about a cold relationship," Eddie muttered. Seeing the others look at him disapprovingly he shrugged. "Don't get me wrong, Grace is lovely, but you can't deny she's pretty distant. And as for Manson, I've met statues less heartless than him!"

* * *

"Hello," Grace rolled over as the bed dipped where he slid into it more than two hours later. She'd woken up when Neil had started the shower and brushed his teeth. "How did it go?"

"Hi," he leant in for a soft kiss. "Fine. It got rather fun after a while, they just looked so frustrated."

Grace laughed softly. "Thanks for being the sacrificial half," she murmured.

"Think I deserve a reward for it," Neil hinted hopefully. She could feel his grin beneath her lips.

"You're incorrigible," Grace lightly slapped the back of his head, before fisting her hand in his hair and lightly brushing her lips and nose against his.

"You can't leave me hanging like that," he protested, hands sliding across her body as she pulled back incrementally.

"Not even to say I love you?" she asked quietly.

"Except for that," he mumbled happily, leaning back in. Grace sighed into his mouth as he lightly caressed her lips with his tongue, coaxing them open. He moaned as her tongue lightly met his, bringing a hand up to her face to hold her still as her hand tightened in his hair. He followed her willingly, settling himself comfortably on top of her as she rolled onto her back.

"I love you too," he murmured as he broke the kiss, before pressing his lips down her jaw and neck.


	24. Jake's Day at Work

**Author's Note:** This is a Jake/CID-centric chapter so it's written largely from Neil's colleagues' points of view, with some G/N scattered throughout. Just for something a little different from all the G/N recently!

* * *

Stevie propped her feet up on her desk, sinking back into her chair with a sigh with a cup of coffee cradled in her hand. It'd been a hectic morning – the DI had had to rush off back home to take Jake to an interview for his new school. Short-handed with Smithy and only three sergeants, it had naturally all kicked off on the streets of Canley. Stevie had been run ragged trying to direct CID officers to the various crime sites. Luckily, the Super had arrived back from the Yard early (complete with a pile of new policy recommendations a mile high) and had immediately helped out in IBO.

The doors to CID banged open, and Stevie glanced up from the file she was barely paying attention to and saw the Super enter, followed by the DI clutching the hand of a small, pale boy. She immediately abandoned the pretence of doing her paperwork, instead inspecting the boy who she recognised from a photograph on the DI's desk as Jake Manson, responsible for all the angst and chaos in CID recently.

He was short and entirely too skinny for what she considered to be a healthy boy. A large white cap, set carefully at a jaunty angle, adorned his head. Freckles scattered across his snub nose stood in sharp contrast to his pale skin; and his solemn expression was very reminiscent of his father's. The kid seemed very aware that the entire office had stopped to stare at him and he drew closer to his father's side.

"Well, if it isn't young Master Manson," Smithy said warmly as he moved forward from where Mickey had been updating him on a case, the only one brave enough to approach the group.

"Hi, Smithy," Jake greeted with an enthusiastic shake of the uniformed Inspector's hand.

"You remember me!" Smithy said in pleased surprise.

"Of course," Jake said matter-of-factly. "You gave me a chocolate bar once."

Neil chuckled, as the others smiled indulgently at the boy. "That stomach of yours, Jake Manson," his dad teased. "It's gonna get you into trouble some day!"

"Well, Smithy, do us a favour and look after him while we go over the new recommendations quickly?" Jack ordered more than asked. "Won't be five minutes. Think you'd just be bored, Jake, is all."

"Course, be my pleasure," Smithy agreed easily.

"I'll be fine, Dad," Jake spoke up, his high voice carrying easily over the bustle of CID when Neil hesitated.

"S'not you I'm worried about, son, it's the state of my department," Neil said lightly, trying to disguise his worry and reluctance.

Jake snorted in a very Neil-like manner. "Whatever. Hurry up! We don't want to be late for Dr Lawson, and I want to watch Doctor Who tonight."

"Listen to your boy, Neil, it's not a problem," Smithy said encouragingly.

"Okay," Neil sighed, recognising he didn't have much of a choice. "But remember, all of you, he is only ten so no inappropriate stories okay."

"Awww," Jake whined with a cheeky grin. Neil lightly cuffed him on the shoulder, before admonishing his son to behave and following Jack out the door. Jake looked back at everyone, greeting the familiar faces politely like he knew he was supposed to.

"We've not met," he said, turning to the people he didn't know. "But my dad's talked about you. You must be DS Carter, DS Moss and DC Banks. I'm Jake Manson."

"Pleased to meet you," Stevie said, equally formally. Somehow it didn't surprise her Manson's kid was as traditional as he was. "Call me Stevie." She winked at him as he took her hand to shake, and the bright grin he gave her took her somewhat aback. Stevie had just sort of expected him to be as serious as his father.

"Banksy," Banksy told him as well. After a pointed glare from Jo, Max also shook his hand.

"So how did the interview go with your new principal?" Smithy asked, pushing a chair over for Jake.

"Pretty good, I think," Jake said, wrinkling his nose as he sat down. "He asked a lot of questions, and he seemed really boring. My house master was well cool though."

"Which school you going to then?" Jo asked.

"Dulwich College," Jake announced proudly. "Same as Dad, only, obviously, I won't be boarding."

"Looking forward to it?" Banksy asked. Mickey sniggered.

"Spoken like a true teacher!" he interjected. "Ignore him, Jake."

"Actually," Jake began. "I'm pretty bored. I've read everything and watched everything Dad says I can, so there's nothing to do."

Banksy laughed. "See, school's good, Mickey!"

"Are you just having a check-up today, sweetheart?" Jo asked. "You mentioned you were going to the doctor."

"No, it's for more of my chemo," Jake replied shortly, swinging his legs uncomfortably. The officers exchanged looks of confusion. "What?" he demanded in a familiar tone.

"Your dad said you was in remission," Mickey spoke up.

"I am," Jake confirmed.

"Why are you still having chemo then?" Smithy asked

"It's called maintenance therapy," Jake explained. "Dad says that although most of the cancer cells have been killed, there could still be some left and they could make me sick again and then they might be resistant to the chemo. So I have to keep having chemo to make sure they don't spread."

"How long will you have maintenance therapy for?" Stevie asked, leaning forward.

"Three years, most likely," Jake said casually. "Dr Lawson said that it might be two and half, but probably three."

"Three years!" Jo exclaimed in surprise. The other officers sat in stunned silence, looking sympathetically at the slight boy. Jake self-consciously adjusted the cap on his head, jutting his jaw out. He didn't want or need their pity.

"You going to play any sports?" Mickey asked.

Jake's face fell slightly, but he recovered almost immediately. "Dad's going to talk to the football coach and see if I can at least train with them even though I missed trials."

There was a brief pause, in which Jake attempted manfully to keep his face impassive and not betray his disappointment. Mickey in particular couldn't restrain a sympathetic look: he knew all too well what it was like to be a ten year old boy whose world revolved around becoming a professional footballer and playing for one's preferred team.

"So, been doing anything cool recently?" Stevie asked awkwardly.

"Yep. Dad said we could do my room up again properly, because it's still pretty similar to when I used to live with Dad when I was six," Jake couldn't restrain his enthusiasm for this particular job. "We went shopping last Sunday, and we're gonna paint the room probably on Saturday. It's going to be light blue, and we're gonna make the edges dark blue. And he bought me a bigger bed, and got a Top Gear blanket with the Stig on it and everything! And Dad says I can share his office, so I'm going to do homework on my own desk in there when he does his reports at night, and then we'll play X-Box or watch TV until my bedtime."

"Sounds like you've got a busy week ahead getting all that done," Stevie said, exchanging indulgent smiles with the other adults at the boy's obvious enthusiasm.

"We're going to have help, of course, because Dad says that he won't be able to move the new furniture around even with my help. So on Saturday, Grace, Uncle Ricky and Aunty Claire and Addy and Adrian and Aaron are coming over to help. The girls are going to cook while we boys do the work," Jake informed her.

The boy was oblivious to the way everyone around him leant forward eagerly at the mention of Grace, but their surprised reactions and instinctive desire to probe further was curbed by the re-entrance of Neil and Jack into CID partway through his last sentence.

"Or, rather, Ricky and I will do the heavy lifting while the kids run off to play games after half an hour," Neil said resting a hand on his son's shoulder. "And don't let Claire hear you say that cooking's not work. Unless you'd like to help them?"

Jake made a face, as everyone laughed.

"Jakey," Neil said softly, glancing at his watch. Jake's face fell immediately.

"Time to go, daddy?" he asked, trying to sound brave but suceeding only in sounding small. Neil nodded.

"Come on, my little man," Neil's voice was full of such tenderness and pride, barely disguising the slight hint of despair and helplessness that underlay his words that Stevie felt her heart break a little for the friendly, mature, and cheeky little boy in front of her. Jake's obvious hero-worship of his dad and Neil's equally obvious doting on the boy painted a very different picture of the usually impassive and heartless DI - a picture that Grace apparently saw.

"Good luck," Mickey wished awkwardly.

"We'll need it," Jake said with a weak smile, the line falling flat as he stood and took Neil's proffered hand. "Bye."

"Bye," everyone chorused, watching Jake's shoulders droop as he followed his father out the door.

"Poor kid," Banksy sighed.

"I think, you know, I think I get why he didn't say anything about it," Stevie said slowly. "It must have really torn him up."

"If it was really such a big deal, why didn't he take the time off then, eh?" Max said impatiently.

"Because his ex-wife and her new husband sat with Jake during the day and he didn't want to be there with them," Banksy defended him. "He stayed nights instead." Jack felt a twinge of guilt at Banksy's words: he hadn't known Neil was spending nights at the hospital, but it made sense when he thought about it - the way he had kept catching Neil shaving, showering or eating meals at the nick.

In hindsight, it would seem he'd focussed too much on getting Smithy settled into his new role, and settling himself back into the job of a Superintendant. He'd gotten so used to Neil running CID efficiently and smoothly that it had not occurred to him to check up on him during Jake's illness. Still, _water under the bridge_, he thought pragmatically. They had work to do.

"Anyway, break's over, get some work done," Jack instructed, not unkindly, before walking out of CID with Smithy, passing Terry and Grace who were on their way in.

"Bad luck, Tel, you missed meeting the infamous Jake Manson," Stevie said cheerily. "Came in with the DI to pick up some paperwork on their way to the hospital."

"I've met the kid before," Terry reminded her as Grace remained silent. "How is he?"

"You can tell he's been sick," Jo remarked. "Very pale, skinny, keeps his hat firmly on his head."

"So I hear you're going to be doing some painting on the weekend," Mickey couldn't help but tease Grace, who immediately blushed.

"Things must be pretty serious if he's introducing you to Jake," Jo commented gravely.

"I'm not discussing this," Grace said firmly, looking up to meet her friends' eyes.

"Relax," Terry squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. "We're all used to the idea now. We're your friends, we want you to be happy, and if _he_ honestly makes you happy then we're okay with it." He directed a warning glare at Max who glared back, before burying himself in his pile of paperwork.

"Yeah, you and Neil can stop avoiding each other like the plague," Mickey said with a snort. "But we reserve the right to tease you."

"Well, I appreciate that," Grace said honestly, before concluding dryly, "but I'm still not discussing it."

"Damn, she sussed us," Stevie clicked her fingers in mock-dismay. "All right, now, off to work all of you. After all, we don't want to cause Grace to have to work to make the DI all happy again..."

The others broke out into sniggers as Stevie shot Grace a cheeky smile.

"Yes," Jo agreed whole-heartedly, nudging Grace's shoulder as she blushed and studiously ignored the pair. "He's only made two PCs cry this week. What _have_ you done to the man, Grace?"

"I hate you all," Grace muttered under her breath.


	25. Good Normal

**Author's Note:** Here we go, the final chapter! Thank you all for reading it, and thanks especially to everyone who has taken the time to review! This chapter takes place before, during and after _Respect_ (II). You really do need to at least see the end sequence to make sense of the middle part of this chapter - it's available on youtube. [Or, like me, you could just rewatch it anyway for the sheer spectacular-ness of it!]

* * *

"Hi, stranger," Neil dropped into the seat next to her, pecking her on the cheek as he picked up a menu.

"So, ten or eleven," Grace teased him, tapping her wrist pointedly. Her watch showed a time of 9.30pm and she'd knocked off almost an hour ago. It was something she'd just gotten used to and had expected at the beginning: Neil often had to stay back after his shift to finish up. He was good at calling her and giving her notice though, and she'd spent the intervening time doing some window shopping. His face remained solemn and she frowned. "What?"

"I forgot, you knocked off before it got called in," Neil remarked, dropping the menu back on the table with a sigh. "The uniformed guys out patrolling the Parkway picked up Jasmine Harris…"

"What for?" Grace asked sharply.

"She was raped," Neil lowered his voice. "Jo took her to the hospital – she's in no condition to talk tonight. I was just…organising things for tomorrow's investigation."

"What do we know?" she asked after a pause. She'd grown fond of the young woman (and could see why Mickey felt so bad). Jaz was a tough, smart, sassy, girl with enough attitude for half a dozen lesser girls her age and Grace had grown somewhat fond of her despite her impudence.

"Well, no prizes for guessing we suspect the Parkway Crew," Neil told her. "Beyond that, I've got officers scouting for CCTV, uniform are getting what statements they can, but it's still early in the investigation."

"She was a sharp kid," Grace said with a heavy sigh. "What is our society doing to its kids?" Neil shook his head silently, reaching out to take her hand as the waiter interrupted to ask for their order.

"How did the rest of the weekend go?" Grace asked, changing the subject to a lighter one as the girl departed. She was in no mood to talk about Jasmine Harris tonight, and she suspected from the weariness in his eyes that Neil wasn't either.

"Good," Neil said, smiling. "Jake was very impressed with the room, and Ricky and Claire couldn't stop singing your praises. They've invited us over for dinner next weekend, so if you're free…?"

"Sure," Grace agreed easily. "I admit to some surprise that they were friends with you, they're so lovely…"

"Oi," Neil grumbled, betrayed by the slight smile tugging at his lips. "Anyway, what's been with you?"

Grace frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You've been flirting with me all day," Neil accused mildly. "I'm not complaining, mind, I just … curious…"

A surge of affection filled Grace as he smiled somewhat smugly and embarrassedly at her and she leaned in and kissed him firmly. "You remember last Thursday when Jake came into work? Well he told them I was coming over to paint. They teased me a little, but, I don't know. In a nice way."

"They're used to the idea," he concluded. "Good. It's about time."

* * *

"What's up?" Neil asked quietly, leaning against the whiteboard behind the desk she'd claimed in the incident room.

"Gov," her tone was sharp, and she flicked a meaningful glance over at an oblivious Stevie and Terry standing five metres away talking seriously about the case.

"They're used to it, and I'm just seeing how you are," Neil said firmly. "What's wrong?"

Grace sighed, giving in. Terry and Stevie had been two of their strongest supporters, after all. More to the point, he was right and irritatingly so: she was a little shaken and she desperately wanted to talk to him about it.

"Smithy and I were trying to convince Jasmine to give a statement," she said quietly. "I asked her if she thought it was okay for a woman to be gang-raped. She just said 'only if it happens to someone like you'. She's, what, just turned eighteen, Neil, for god's sake!"

"I know," he murmured.

"How can anyone think so little of themselves and what they have to offer? She was a sharp, sharp kid. Could've done anything, been anyone. I just…I don't understand. And then she goes home with them! Why couldn't we offer her more?"

"You know why," Neil said gently, but firmly, unconsciously reaching out to touch her before recalling where he was and stuffing his hands into his pockets. "We're overstretched. We don't have the people or resources to give time to a girl who refuses our help."

Grace sighed heavily as officers filed into the room to discuss the next development of the case. "I know. Still wrong though."

* * *

"Last night, a young girl was raped to keep her quiet. Two hours ago, she gave a statement to the police that will put these thugs in jail. Respect," as Jack's voice rang through the room, Neil felt Grace shift beside him and saw her look down, hugging herself tighter. He shuffled a half-step closer to her.

She'd been the one to interview Jasmine during her statement. It had been somewhat unorthodox: Mickey, Smithy and Grace had taken her statement. On the journey to the nick, Jasmine had asked Mickey if 'that lady could sit in' on the statement, and then Smithy had (unknowing of the arrangement) asked if Mickey had wanted him to sit in, Jasmine had agreed and somehow there'd ended up being three people in the room. Grace had said something about Jasmine being comfortable about having so many people there because they were a stand-in for the support she wouldn't get elsewhere.

Neil knew Grace had found the day hard. The casually callous disregard for women shown by the Parkway crew had sickened them all. Grace's usual implacability had been shaken by Jasmine's comment that rape was only wrong when it happened to someone like her – his stomach tightened at the very thought. The instant Grace had walked into his office with the statement, he'd seen that she was feeling off-balance and wretched, but with Mickey right behind her he couldn't say or do anything. She was a consummate professional: Neil doubted very much that anyone had noticed, especially with Mickey's own emotional dilemmas coming to the forefront.

But he noticed. And felt useless, constrained by his rank to not do anything.

"And I'm proud, of my team," Jack continued. Screw it. Nobody was watching them – all eyes were on Jack's remarkable speech. Slowly, he edged his hand over to hers, glad when she eagerly grasped it. He could see her glance at him through the corner of his eye, but he continued to watch Jack's speech, squeezing her hand tenderly.

Jack concluded his soliloquy, and Neil reluctantly let go, just as Mickey turned towards them. Grace relaxed against his warm hand which had moved to rest discretely on her lower back. That touch was as good as a bear hug from a friend, she mused, grateful at the way he'd picked up on her mood and quietly reassured her.

"I'm just going to have a word with Jack," Neil said quickly, seeing Banksy smile at them with an irritatingly knowing look. Neil dropped his hand, walking up to the front of the room as Grace turned toward the commotion at the entrance to the briefing room.

"Crisps glorious crisps!" Terry announced triumphantly, brandishing a packet of crisps. Grace smiled at her friend, declining his offer of a crisp.

"I'm off, night guys," she said to a chorus of farewells as the rest of them huddled around the packet, quickly depleting it.

* * *

"Yeah, let's do it," Smithy agreed, and the two men began to walk away from the station.

"Should we invite them?" Callum nodded to the couple walking to their cars. He frowned, peering closer. Were they…_holding hands_?

"Oi, Neil, Grace," naturally, Smithy would yell out before Callum had a chance to determine what was going on. The pair turned around, and Callum saw that while they were not touching each other, they were standing _awfully _close together. "Everyone's going down the pub. You joining us, or are you…_busy_ tonight?"

An entire conversation took place in the split-second glance they threw each other.

"We'll see you down there," Grace answered for them both.

"Reckon Manson's got that lucky?" Stone quietly returned to their previous conversation as the DI and Grace got into their separate cars. "Twice? Or you reckon it's just a fling?"

"They're both...serious and intense people," Smithy said slowly. "I've known Manson a long time. He's an all-or-nothing kind of guy." The young Inspector had initially wanted to hate Neil for what he'd done to Andrea, continually stringing her along. But her subsequent betrayal had made him simply feel sorry for the other man, a feeling which had dissolved into pity as Smithy had watched Neil deal with his obviously genuine heart-break and grief at her death and the subsequent meltdown of his marriage. In some ways, Smithy supposed, Neil had taken a hit he'd very nearly not dodged.

"Makes him easier to work with anyway," Stone shrugged, oblivious to his boss' thoughts. Smithy smiled and nodded, clapping the sergeant on the shoulder as they reached their own cars.

* * *

"Come on, Neil, give you a game," Jack said, setting his pint down and clapping his DI on the back as he steered him towards the pool tables. Everyone had been surprised to see the Super down at the pub, until Mickey explained he'd invited him as he'd walked up to his office to collect his coat.

"I'm commandeering this table after this one – DI Manson owes me a game," he announced to Mickey and Grace, who were circling the table as the rest of CID and half of uniform watched on.

"S'alright," Mickey grumbled as Grace smoothly slipped another ball into a pocket. "Grace's sunk me."

Everyone groaned at the poor pun, and Terry flicked a peanut from the basket at the back of Mickey's head as Grace quickly cleaned up the table.

"Cheers, Mickey, I'll have another wine," she told him. He grudgingly trotted off to the bar, and Neil and Jack stepped forward to set up the table again.

"Would you like to break, or shall I?" Neil asked, chalking the cue.

"You. Need all the help you can get," Jack mocked.

"Trash talk already, gov?" Neil asked, unimpressed, as he leant down and smashed the triangle. Some of the bravado faded, however, as he watched the balls scatter. "Damn."

Jack chuckled as he retrieved the white ball from the corner pocket, and played it from the D.

* * *

"Try the 7 to top right corner," Grace quietly advised Neil as he stood, staring in apparent bewilderment at the table. The game had dragged on as Neil played poorly and Jack's shots grew progressively wilder as he continued to drink. Most of uniform had long since deserted the pool tables in favour of the bar. CID remained, amused at how Grace allowed herself to sound a touch more frustrated with him than normal as she offered the DI suggestions and criticisms. Frustratingly for the nosy detectives, they continued to do nothing to suggest that they were romantically involved. She wasn't even checking him out as he leant over [a view that a number of PCs were enjoying with varying degrees of discreteness].

"Oh for heaven's sake," Banksy exclaimed, boldness fuelled by the alcohol he'd consumed, as Neil bent to take the shot. It was his game-time the Super had commandeered. "You've already got the girl, why can't you play properly, gov?"

Neil reflexively straightened and whipped around, jaw hanging open in surprise, as Jack burst into laughter and Grace choked on her drink.

"Maybe I just like telling him where to put it," Grace said in her usual cool tone after a beat, the slight quirk of an eyebrow lending a hint of suggestiveness to the comment. Neil snorted in amusement, giving her a previously-unseen cheeky little grin.

Silence reigned for a moment as everyone stared at the pair who continued a silent and obviously flirtatious exchange, oblivious to their audience.

Mickey let out a loud wolf-whistle, and everyone watched in stunned amusement as the DI actually blushed furiously, opening his mouth as if to speak then closing it with a snap.

"D'aww, they're so cute!" Stevie exclaimed, the alcohol she'd consumed making her even more outspoken than usual. "He's even blushing."

Neil bent back down, valiantly ignoring both Stevie and the blush his colleagues could see travelling down the back of his neck. Grace's own face flushed slightly and she concentrated on her drink.

A couple of hours later, the group had long since abandoned the pool tables to the tender mercies of Leon and Ben, retreating to the bar. Neil had quickly regained his composure, and the couple were back to their usual cool selves, although the pair _were_ leaning up against the bar next to each other, shoulders lightly brushing occasionally. A few well-placed glares from Neil had quickly quashed any desire to comment.

"What's the time?" Banksy asked with a barely-suppressed yawn.

"Half ten," Terry replied, glancing at his watch. Banksy muttered a curse, and quickly scooped up his belongings.

"Already?" Grace asked in surprise, her own eyes darting to the clock on the wall to confirm Terry's words.

"Time flies," Banksy noted, a rare edge of panic. "I told Naomi no later than ten, night all."

Mickey laughed. "One reason I'm never getting married," he commented, watching Banksy's retreating figure.

"What, aside from the fact you're not able to find a girl to put up with you?" Jo teased.

"No," Mickey retorted with a stiff dignity spoiled by some unintentional slurring of his words. "Having to piss off home cos of the missus. Rather have my beer."

"Well, I think I'll follow Banksy's lead," Grace said with a roll of her eyes at Mickey. She hesitated, but damn it, it was late, she was tired, it'd be a tough day and she really wanted to just snuggle up with him. "Coming?" she asked Neil casually.

Dead silence reigned for the second time that night. Neil's face flickered with quickly-suppressed surprise as he calmly nodded and drained his pint.

"Night all," he said into the stunned silence, levelling a sharp glace at Mickey. "Don't forget, you're on the early shift, DC Webb. I look forward to seeing you at 7.30am sharp."

"Good night," Grace wished.

"Night," her colleagues chorused as the couple headed out the door together, throwing a quick wave to Smithy and Callum.

Once they'd exited, the remaining CID members, Eddie and Jo turned to each other with expressions ranging from bemused to pleased.

"Is Banksy going to be pissed he missed that or what?" Terry chuckled after a moment. Mickey grinned.

"Nah, he and I saw 'em holding hands during the briefing," he announced, rather more loudly than necessary.

"No way!"

* * *

Grace slipped her hand into his as they reached the door and stepped outside.

"Well, that was interesting," she said, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah," Neil agreed as they reached their cars. Turning to face her, he took her other hand in his.

"You know what?" Grace asked before he had the opportunity to speak.

"What?"

"This doesn't feel at all weird," she said softly, stroking his hands with her thumbs and nodding at the pub they'd just left. _Together_. "Feels normal. Good normal."

A shy smile crossed Neil's lips as his question was answered. "Good," he said, leaning in and brushing a swift but tender kiss against her lips before they reluctantly parted to get in their separate cars. Putting his car into gear, Neil waited for Grace to pull out of her spot before following her out of the carpark and back home.

**FIN**


End file.
